Back To School
by overthemoon07
Summary: It's the gang's senior year in high school... sorta. Mark and Maureen are dating, Roger's a badass, Mimi's a whore, Angel's the new kid, Joanne's the nerd, Benny is viceprincipal and Collns is a new lab aide. What will happen next?
1. Chapter 1

(FYI: this is weird and based on our own rent family. There's a long story behind all of this, which I'll share with you if you really wanna know, but for now, just go with it. The pairings are like this for a reason. Just read and comment. Thanks!)

Title: Back to School (subject to change, bear with us.)  
Author: J-fizz and Ms. Friz (aka **bronzinit** and **discoapocalypse**)  
Feedback: is better than Anthony Rapp naked. Well... not quite. But it is still appreciated.  
Pairing: Right now, just Mark/Maureen and implied Mimi/Roger  
Word Count: 2,597  
Rating: PG  
Genre: General/Humor  
Summary: It's the gang's senior year in high school... sorta. Mark and Maureen are dating, Roger's a badass, Mimi's a whore, Angel's the new kid, Joanne's the nerd, Benny is vice-principal and Collns is a new lab aide. What will happen next?  
Notes: Beware... this is inspired by our own crazy Rent family and hence, is more than a little out of character. This twisted idea hit us a few days ago and well, we couldn't help ourselves. So, keep that in mind while reading and be kind. We are fragile young girls and mean things hurt our feelings. :)  
Special Thanks: To our Rent family (except for Jordan... Benny): Collins (Tom), Mark (Matt), Mimi (Katie), Joanne (Chels), and especially our Roger (Caity) for inspiring us to do this in the first place.  
Spoilers: Uh... Angel's a cross dresser? It's kinda implied.  
Warnings: Uh... Mimi's a whore? Teacher/student sex implied and very very strange pairings.  
Disclaimer: Not ours. It's Jonathan's. Although Ms. Foley and Ms. Reid are real, very awesome people, we don't own them either. Bah.

Maureen sighed. Another first day of school… the only thing different was this would be her last. She was a senior… finally! A small yawn escaped her lips as she wandered into auditorium. Seeing no familiar faces, she plopped down in an empty chair in the front row, waiting for class to start. A loud rapping sounded on the window on her left and looking over Maureen saw Mark squished up against it, waving vigorously. She rolled her eyes and waved back, subtly slinking further down into her seat. It was only the first day and already he was driving her nuts. Mark was so clingy and needy and smothering. She wasn't sure how much longer that'd be going on. It was fine this summer. Mark wasn't following her everywhere. But now, she couldn't escape him. She needed some air.

A few other kids wandered into the room, Maureen recognized most of them, except for one: a young boy with big brown eyes and a very cute smile. _New kid…_ she thought. _Wonder who he is…_

Angel finally lifted his head from his recently acquired school map. The door in front of him was marked, in large letters, 'auditorium.' "Gracias, Dios," he muttered. First day, senior year and here he was starting at a whole new school. The slight Latino shrugged and pushed the door open. A crowd of students pushed from behind him, going through the small doorway before he even had a chance.

Once the throng of bodies had cleared the door, Angel hitched up his leather backpack and entered the auditorium. Despite the situation, he felt a smile blooming on his lips. Something about artistic spaces, be it theaters, galleries or studios had a positive effect on his mood. He looked around the room, trying to size up who would be best to sit with. After all, he didn't know anyone, but he was hoping to remedy that soon. His gaze fell on a pretty, dark-haired girl who was staring in his direction. Angel waved slightly and bounced over to the seat next to her. "Hi, I'm Angel. Do you mind if I sit here?"

Thomas Collins, computer genius and vagabond anarchist, grudgingly walked into a place he never thought he'd see again: high school. Even though it wasn't his alma mater, the school was already giving him the creeps. He rolled his eyes as he passed the typical rocker-punk kids: a skinny guy with shaggy, bleach-blond hair strumming a guitar. Another blond kid was sitting near him, an ancient camera at his eye. A girl sat with them as well, her large chest barely covered by the low-cut tank she was wearing. Collins shook his head and pushed into the office.

An aging secretary greeted him, shoving a multitude of papers into his hands. Collins signed document after document. Apparently being a computer lab aide was more complicated than he thought. His hand was aching by the time he signed the final paper. He was given another packet and an assurance that his 'student guide' would be there shortly. Collins politely thanked the secretary and sat on a bench to wait. By then, the rocker blond had entered the office and was sitting on the bench next to Collins. He nodded his head in a sort of greeting. The anarchist was about to introduce himself when the skinny camera guy burst into the office.

"Sorry I'm late, Ms. Foley, I had to walk Maureen to class," he said in a sweet voice. The secretary waved him towards Collins. He paused when he saw the guitarist. "First day and you're already in the office, Rog?" The other boy shrugged.

Rolling his eyes, the blond kid held out his hand to Collins. "Hi, Mr. Collins, right? I'm Mark Cohen."

Collins shook his hand, a little taken aback at the clear blue of the boy's eyes. "Hey, Mark. It's just Collins."

"All right… Collins. Come on, I'll show you around." Collins got up, securing his backpack on his shoulder. Roger shot a shit-eating grin at the man, giving him a rock-on hand sign before the office door closed. The new computer aide shook his head disbelievingly. He could tell that he was in for quite a ride.

Maureen smiled warmly as the young boy walked over to where she was sitting. She nodded in response to his question and patted the empty seat beside her. "I'm Maureen," she grinned. "Maureen Johnson. You must be new around here." She glanced down at the map he held in his hands and gently pried it from his fingers. "Jeez, this is confusing. I'm surprised you found your way here." She squinted as her eyes darted over the outline of the school. She attempted to fold the map but was less than successful, so instead she made new fold marks and handed the slightly crumpled piece of paper back to Angel. "Sorry," she said, chewing on her bottom lip. "So we have drama together. Drama's my favorite subject. I'm going to be a famous actress once I get out of here. What about you?" Maureen dug around in her pocket as she waited for a response. "Hey, can I see your schedule?" she asked, getting off topic.

"Mr. Davis."  
"Ms. Foley."  
"First day of school and you're already in trouble, hon."  
The blond rocker shrugged as he removed his guitar from across his knees and set it on the empty bench beside him. "Come on, everyone does it."  
"That doesn't make it right," she replied, adjusting her glasses. "Mr. Coffin would like to see you."  
Roger groaned as he slid his calloused fingers through his hair. "Good ol' Benny boy," he sighed. He stuffed his notebook back into his bag and slung it over his shoulder as he stood up. "Well, lead the way."

_God, he's so cute…_ Joanne Jefferson peered through the last set of windows into the main office to see Roger Davis picking up his guitar and scuffing towards the principal's office. She sighed dreamily as he smiled at the receptionist. His smile made her go weak in the knees. She tensed up as he glanced back over his shoulder and caught her staring. She quickly scurried away from the window and dashed back to class. All the way she hummed happily to herself, skipping as she went. First block, history. Unlike many seniors at school who tried to take the easy way out, Joanne had crammed her schedule full of classes, taking everything she could get her hands on. She was going to go to Harvard next year and no one was going to tell her other wise. But right now, all she was thinking about was a certain trouble making rock star who had a gig Friday night. She'd be there, as long as the gang was going, too.

Mark's face was turning pink by the time he reached the computer lab. The boy may have been skinny, but athletic he was not. Hence, the double flight of stairs he had to trudge up was something he was not used to. He unwound the ever-present blue and white scarf from his neck and chanced a glance behind him. The new teacher aide seemed unfazed by the exertion of climbing the stairs. He was waiting for Mark to open the door, eyeing the filmmaker strangely. Mark found his face getting hotter under the man's gaze.

In an effort to make himself stop blushing, Mark cleared his throat, adjusted the grip on his camera bag and opened the door into the computer lab. "So –"

"Mr. Collins!" The computer teacher rushed over and, for lack of better words, whisked Collins away. The black man managed a wave to Mark along with mouthing 'Thanks!' before he was dragged away. Mark felt an inexplicable disappointment at this revelation. Sighing, he turned and left the computer lab, heading for the dreaded stairs. He had Spanish first period. His teacher was already pissed that he was late for an excused reason. Slowly, he started down the stairs, prepping himself to get through the day. At least he would see Collins during fourth period when he had computer tech.

Angel dug around in his bag. Somehow his schedule had already gotten shoved to the bottom. He managed to locate the slip of paper. Luckily, it had only ripped in one spot, though there was something red on one of the corners – shit. Angel handed the schedule to Maureen and started rooting in his bag again. He took out his binder, careful to keep the front hidden, and located the thing he was trying to find. He quickly slipped the cap onto his lipstick and shoved it back in, along with his rainbow decorated binder. He was about to start asking Maureen about her schedule when the drama teacher flew in, her auburn hair streaming out behind her. She apologized for being late, taking a gulp of her tea before starting a talk about the class. Angel tried to pay attention as well as he could. Ten minutes into the day and he was already being distracted by someone… and a girl, no less. Worse things had happened.

Mimi lounged outside the office, waiting for Roger to come out. It was only the first day and she already wanted to skip. A slim cigarette dangled from her fingers. She exhaled, the puff of gray smoke clouding around her pretty face. A feline-like smile curled onto her lips when she caught a group of freshman boys staring at her. Their eyes practically bugged out when she leaned forward, exposing more of her ample chest. A bell rang, and they scattered to get to class. Mimi chuckled. Lazily, she took another drag of her cigarette, leaned back against the railing and closed her eyes. Where the hell was Roger?

"Miss Marquez." Mimi blinked for a moment before she recognized the figure standing over her.

"Mr. Coffin. It's a pleasure seeing you as well," she purred, dropping the smoke and grinding it out. The vice-principal beckoned her into the office. Mimi stood in a way that could only be described as slinking and strutted towards him. She winked at Roger as she passed him, not noticing the way he rolled his eyes. As soon as the door shut behind her, Mimi sat down and crossed her legs, exposing most of her mocha skin. As expected, Coffin's eyes lingered on the bare appendages. Mimi grinned. This wouldn't be a hard year after all.

Maureen grabbed the piece of paper from Angel, watching her friend dig around in his bag out of the corner of her eye. She wiped absent-mindedly at the glob of red at the top of the paper as she flattened it on her knee. Wiping the red onto her jeans, she scanned the schedule, smiling happily. "Ang, we have chorus together next block," she pointed out, tapping the boy's shoulder. "You'll get to meet Mark and Roger. They have chorus, too. Oh, this is gonna be so much fun!"

"Welcome to theatre," the woman said calmly as she stood in front of the stage. "I'm Ms. Reid, the drama teacher and this is drama 101."

Maureen knew the teacher; she'd been in a number of school productions over the years. And she also knew what the class entailed, so Maureen continued comparing schedules while the teacher talked. She asked the class to break into small groups or partners and pick a dramatic scene to perform. Maureen grabbed onto Angel's arm. "Wanna be my partner?" she asked hopefully.

Roger slunk out of the office, guitar in hand as well as a pink slip of paper demanding he stay after school tomorrow for detention. Roger crumpled the piece of paper and jammed it deep into the pockets of his ripped jeans. He rolled his eyes as Mimi followed Mr. Coffin into his office wearing her scantily clad outfit, a great deal of her chest popping out. Roger's eyes lingered momentarily, but he shrugged it off and continued walking. Mimi was nice and she was very friendly with him (if you know what I mean) but Roger wasn't sure he wanted that. Everyone thought he did; he was a rocker and all rockers had girlfriends. All rockers dreamed of having girlfriends like Mimi Marquez, but not Roger. Friends was about as far as he was gonna go with her. He shuffled down the hallway, digging around in his other pocket for his schedule. Ugg, History. Roger thought about ditching and he came awful close, too, until he saw Mark on his way to Spanish.

"Rog, go to class," Mark ordered. "You don't need another detention."  
"Yeah, yeah," Roger sulked. "See ya later."

He grudgingly entered his first block class, taking a seat near the back and promptly put his head down on the desk and fell asleep.

Joanne felt her heart pound when she saw Roger Davis enter. He slouched to the back of the room, past her desk and to the one behind her. She heard a dull thunk and assumed that it was Roger's head on the desk. The guitarist was infamous for sleeping through his entire day and still managing to get passing grades in classes. Joanne found herself dying to turn around and run her fingers through that shaggy hair. As it was, she was nearly intoxicated by the smell of cigarette smoke, cologne and aftershave coming from the boy behind her.

The harsh sound of the bell jolted her to her senses. She hurriedly pulled out her notebook, pencil case and glasses. Her ears perked up as the teacher started taking attendance. Joanne flipped to the red tab in her notebook, the neatly lined white paper already headed with the name of the class. She took in one more deep breath, inhaling the smell of the rocker before she started taking notes, the teacher's voice only interrupted by soft snores.

Angel grinned over at Maureen. "Sure," he replied, reaching up and taking her hand. He led her over to an empty part of the auditorium. All of the other students had gotten into groups of two or three and were poring over books. "So, what do you want to do?" he asked.

"Well, I kinda was hoping to do one of the classics, like Shakespeare, that kinda shit, you know?" She held up a worn book of Shakespeare scenes. "Then maybe we could shake it up a little, make it our own?" A hopeful smile lit her face, and Angel found himself strangely drawn to the twinkle in her eyes.

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed. Suddenly, he stood up, flinging his arms out dramatically. "What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun…" Angel knelt by Maureen. He found it absurdly easy to be Romeo to her Juliet.

Maureen was giggling in her chair by the time Angel was done with his outburst. She applauded lightly. Angel bowed low, putting a mock-serious look on his face. Well, if the first class was anything to judge by, then Angel wouldn't have any problems making friends here. He could only hope.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Not ours. It's Jonathan's. Although Ms. Foley, Mr. Murray and Ms. Reid are real, very awesome people, we don't own them either.

More odd pairings. Yay for odd pairings! And thank you guys sooo much for your reviews! We love you!

Roger bolted up at the harsh ring of the school bell. Shit… he thought, rubbing his already aching head. A shouted announcement of a homework assignment floated over the sounds of notebooks closing and zippers zipping that filled the room. The guitarist scoffed, scrawling it down on the blank page of his notebook. Carefully, he glanced over the shoulder of the girl in front of him to get an idea of what they were studying. French Revolution. Something he knew absolutely nothing about nor would need later in life.

He slid out of the room, managing to avoid the inevitable lecture from the history teacher. Bodies filled the hall, laughing and chatting. Roger's headache just throbbed harder at the bustle. He backed into a little alcove off the hall and dug his schedule out of his pocket. Second block… chorus. Just his luck. At least Mark was in the class. And Maureen, though she normally annoyed the shit out of him rather than entertaining him. Roger sighed, breaking through a giggling group of sophomore girls who were closing in on him. He started on the familiar path to the chorus room. Two hours down, six to go.

Collins couldn't believe it. He had left when the bell rung to find the office. It had only taken him two minutes to get from there to the computer lab. Simple logic dictated that it should take him the same amount of time to get to the office from the computer lab. But here he was, nearly ten minutes later, and he was just walking into the room thanks to the help of a passing freshman. They are fourteen year olds who've been here for as long as I have, but they know their way around. So much for my genius I.Q., he thought bitterly. He sighed. The receptionist smiled kindly at him when the paper he had been holding floated down in front of her. "First day's always the toughest, hon. You'll get used to this place." Collins managed to grin back at her.

"Thanks." He turned to leave, but stopped when he heard his name being called.

"Mr. Collins!" The vice-principal, Benjamin Coffin III, exited his office, a young girl in tow. Collins, being the observant man that he is, looked from the girl to the administrator. The girl's shirt was askew, and she was tugging at her obscenely short skirt. Benny (as he was asked to call him) was straightening his tie and buttoning the top button of his shirt. "Mr. Collins, could you do me a favor? Could you escort Ms. Marquez to her class? It's chorus, she'll lead you there. Make sure she doesn't get sidetracked. Thanks!" Benny was hurrying back into his office before Collins could accept or reject his offer.

She giggled. "They call me Mimi, by the way. Come on." With a swing of her hips, Mimi strutted out of the office, drawing the gaze of some delinquents seated on the bench. Collins followed her. Could this school be any crazier?Maureen hurriedly tossed the drama books back on the stage and sighed happily as the bell rang to dismiss everyone to second block. "Come on, Ang," Maureen chirped as she grabbed onto his hand. "To chorus class we go!" She pulled anxiously on his hand as she moved towards the door of the auditorium. "This is going to be so much fun! I'm so glad that we have another class together. And you'll get to meet Mark and Roger," she paused. "And everyone else!"

Mark scurried out of Spanish as fast as he could, avoiding any further interaction with Señorita Moore than he'd already had to suffer through. Of course she'd called on him and asked him to speak in front of the class, on the first day of school no less. Mark sometimes wondered why he'd signed up for Spanish four. He knew he couldn't speak the language and he really wasn't a fan of the teacher either. But it would look good on a college transcript, or so his mother told him. She was convinced her son was going to go to some great college and become a famous doctor or lawyer or something else that was incredibly dull and boring and un-artsy.

While his mind was wandering, so were his feet and Mark soon found himself tumbling down the front stairs outside of the main office. He landed with a thud on his back, rolling to protect his camera and as he looked up he found a familiar pair of brown eyes staring back.

"Mark, are you all right?" she asked, extending a hand to the clumsy blond.

"Yeah," he mumbled, grabbing onto her hand. "Thanks Mimi."

As Mark stood up and brushed himself off, he noticed that Mimi wasn't alone. Collins, the computer aide, was hovering over her shoulder and looking over at him. Mark felt his face flush and he must have been as red as a tomato. Mimi giggled as he shuffled nervously.

"Where are you off to, Marky?" she asked.

"Erm, chorus," he replied.

"Me, too," she smiled. "Walk with us."

"Okay," he nodded as he followed the pair towards the classroom. Angel walked with Maureen… or at least, attempted to do so. The throngs of people crowding the narrow hallways made it tough to do so at some points. He kept his eyes locked on Maureen's dark hair, following her to the chorus room. He wasn't surprised at the number of people that she greeted as they walked. Angel managed to make it to the chorus room in one piece, exhaling nervously once they stepped inside the large room. "You okay, Ang?" Angel grinned at his new friend, shrugging.

"Yeah – " He jumped out of the way to avoid being hit by the opening door. A well-endowed Latina girl walked in, going to Maureen. The two started chattering loudly. Two other people had followed her in: a tall, handsome black man who looked somewhat bewildered and a short, small blond guy with glasses and a scarf. The older man nodded at Angel, grinning slightly before he clapped the blond's shoulder.

"I'll see you later?" Angel's eyebrow rose.

The blond smiled back, his face flushing pink. "Uh, yeah. Fourth block. See ya, Collins…" Collins grinned again. This time the expression lit his face in a way Angel had only seen before when his parents smiled at each other. Angel hid a smile as Collins left and the blond went over to Maureen. It seemed that love was in the air. This thought made his gaze stray to Maureen for reasons he didn't know. Angel shrugged off the feeling and went over to his friend. Maybe the people she was talking to would be as nice as she was…

Joanne passed an unfamiliar black man as she entered the chorus room. She was about to go to talk to Maureen and Mimi when the bell rang again, signaling the start of class. "Come on, guys, the bell rang!" The students gathered near the door headed to their seats. Most of the class was upperclassmen who had taken chorus before, so they automatically went to their sections. Joanne seated herself on the edge of the alto section near the tenors, hoping that she'd score the seat next to Roger. No such luck. The rocker was sitting on the other edge of the tenor section, near the basses, next to his friend Mark. Joanne sighed gently, propping her chin in her hand and looking to the group of freshman gathered in the front of the room.

"All right, so it's a new year. This is chorus, I'm Mr. Murray and you guys need to find seats. Soprano, bass, tenor, alto," he dictated, pointing to each section in turn. "If you don't know what part you are, just go somewhere for now and we'll talk after class." The little group dispersed. A lanky Hispanic guy headed for the seat next to Joanne. The girl smiled welcomingly.

"Hi, I'm Joanne Jefferson. Are you new here? You don't look like a freshman…"

The boy grinned. "Yeah, I'm new. I'm a senior. Angel. Angel Dumott Schunard," he introduced.

"Nice to meet you, Angel. Have you met a lot of people here yet?" she asked as Mr. Murray started calling out folder numbers.

"Just Maureen." He glanced over to the sopranos. Maureen smiled over at him and waved. Angel returned the favor before looking back at Joanne. "Are you – "

"Joanne!" Joanne brought her gaze back to the teacher. "Folder 74. Do you mind sharing with Mr. Schunard for the day?"

"Nope!" Joanne winked at Angel and left to get her folder, passing Roger at the stack of folder slots. He half-smiled at her. The studious girl felt her heart flutter at the sight of the bad boy's grin. She retrieved her folder in a sort of daze, reliving the moment over and over as she walked back to the seat."Rog… Roger…" Mark called to the rocker. "Roger!"

"Huh?" Roger asked, looking over at the tenor. "What?"

"What are you looking at?" Mark asked, trying to follow his line of vision.

"Nothing," Roger lied, turning away from the alto section. "I was just… daydreaming. Thinking about the gig on Friday."

"Oh," Mark nodded, oblivious to Roger's cover up.

"So how's Mo?" Roger teased. "Get any new orders lately?"

Mark scowled at the guitarist and rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Rog," Mark replied. "She doesn't boss me around."

"Mhm," Roger said as he attempted to stifle his giggles.

"She's good," Mark answered. He looked over at the dark haired diva who was busy catching up with Mimi and smiled, waiting for her to glance over at him. "So, how's your first day going?" Maureen asked the bubbly Latina.

"Fine," she smiled, thinking back to this morning. "How's yours? Have any classes with Mark?"

"Just this for now," Maureen shrugged.

"That's too bad," Mimi replied as she adjusted her tank top, trying in vain to cover her cleavage.

"Meems, can I tell you something?" Maureen asked, leaning closer to the girl.

"Sure," she nodded. "Of course you can."

"I'm thinking of breaking up with Mark."

Mimi gasped, covering her mouth with her hand as the diva made her announcement. "No," she shook her head. "Really? Why? Mark's a sweet guy."

"I know," Maureen replied. "I know he is. I like him a lot, but he's just so… clingy! It drives me nuts. It's like I can't do anything without him being right there, monitoring me. And well," she paused and glanced over at the tenor section. "I think it's best we just be friends."

"Well," Mimi sighed. "I see your point. As long as you guys stay friends. I couldn't stand it if we all didn't hang out anymore."

"We will," Maureen assured her. "Oh, I've got to introduce you to Angel after class. He's right over there," she pointed to the Hispanic boy who was chatting with Joanne. "We had theatre together this morning."

"All right," Mr. Murray shouted over the loud roar of students. "See you on Thursday!"

Maureen was about to walk over to Angel when a pair of hands grabbed onto her waist. She spun around in the grasp of her boyfriend and smiled. She kissed him quickly on the cheek before escaping from his hands. "Hi Pookie," she greeted.

"Hi Maureen," he smiled. "What have you got next?"

"Umm, lunch," she replied. "With Mimi and Angel."

"Me, too," he said. "We can all sit together."

"Yeah," she forced another smile. "Come on, I want to introduce you and Mimi to Angel."Roger slouched out of the room behind Mark and Maureen as only he could. With the two people in front of him, there were two others: some skinny Latin kid that Roger didn't know yet and Mimi. For once, she wasn't flirting with him, something Roger thought of as a welcome change. He was forced out of his thoughts when he bumped into someone. "Oh, sorry… Joanne, right?"

The pretty African-American girl smiled and blushed. "Yeah. Sorry about that, Roger," she mumbled. A piece of paper fluttered out of her full arms. "Shit…" she whispered, trying to bend and retrieve it. Someone else ran into her from behind, making her drop all of her books. The person didn't even stop to help her.

"Ass!" Roger called after the kid. He knelt and helped Joanne gather her many notebooks and texts, including the paper she had originally dropped. It was her schedule. "Hey, you have lunch now, right? Would you like to sit with us?" The question surprised even him.

Nevertheless, Joanne nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that," she mumbled, smiling shyly. Roger put a hand on her shoulder and turned her in the direction that his friends were going. Angel dug around in his bag again once he was sitting at a table in the cafeteria. His lunch was somewhere in here… ah! He extracted the paper sack from the depths of the thing, avoiding pulling out his makeup bag with it. That would cause a scene worse than he already did by himself. Mark was the only other person at the table since Maureen and Mimi had gone to buy lunch. "So, how long have you and Maureen been dating?" he asked, trying to make conversation.

"About six months. She's a really great girl," he replied, smiling wistfully. Angel tried to return the gesture but found an irrational jealousy blocking his ability to do so. He was about to say something else when Maureen slid into the seat between him and Mark. Mimi sat on the other side of the blond. Mark put his arm around Maureen's shoulders, glancing up to see someone else coming to their table. Angel followed his gaze to a blond rocker-type who had his hand on Joanne's back. "Finally! Roger, what the hell took you so long?" Mark exclaimed as they slid into the two remaining seats.

"I got sidetracked… Some ass ran into Joanne, so I helped her get her stuff back. Hi," he said, noticing Angel for the first time.

"Oh! Guys, this is Angel. Ang, this is Roger and Joanne – "

"We've met," Angel informed Maureen, grinning at the black girl. He raised his eyebrows at Roger before glancing pointedly at Joanne. The girl smiled, embarrassed. Angel shook his head and forked up a bite of his salad. Mark was looking over at the corner where the new aid was standing. Love was all around him. Angel focused his eyes on the table, smiling gently. He would fit in here… thank God."So guys, you coming to the gig on Friday?" Roger asked the table as he bit into the mystery meat sandwich he'd picked up in the hot lunch line.

"Ew, Roger," Maureen grimaced. "Do you even know what that is?"

"Nope," Roger grinned, his mouth full. "And I don't wanna know so don't say anything."

"Yeah, we'll come," Mimi nodded.

"Cool," Roger smiled as his elbow brushed up against Joanne's. "Sorry," he murmured.

"That's okay," she said quietly, dipping her spoon back into her yogurt.

"Are you coming with us, Jo?" Maureen asked as she attempted to wiggle out of Mark's grasp.

"Yeah," she nodded.  
"Hey, Maureen," Mark asked, calling her attention back to him. "Wanna go to the movies this weekend?"

"Umm," Maureen paused. It was now or never. She had to get out of this and she had to do it now. "I don't think so."

"Oh, okay…" Mark looked down at the table. "Wanna grab some dinner some night this week?"

"Mark," Maureen sighed. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah," Mark nodded. "We're talking."

She pushed away from the table, being careful not to elbow Angel in the face. "We'll be back," she said, grabbing onto Mark's hand.

"What's up?" Mark asked as she dragged him out into the lobby.

"Look," she put her hands on her hips and glanced out the window. "Umm, see the thing is…" she glanced back at the cameraman and sighed.

"What?" Mark asked, grabbing onto her hand.

She wiggled her hand out of his grasp and stared into his eyes. "Mark, I think we should see other people."


	3. Chapter 3

OOC: Thanks for reading guys! Sorry this chapter is late... we'll have more soon! Please continue to review! We'd like to know what you want! Thanks!

Mark was still in a shocked daze by the time he wandered into his third block class. Maureen had dumped him? He vaguely remembered walking back into the cafeteria, sitting down and eating the rest of his perfectly packed lunch. All he could think about was the fact that Maureen and he were no longer together. He was single. She was single. There wasn't a Mark-and-Maureen, just a Mark.

He attempted to stop these thoughts as he slid into his seat in the third row from the front. _History, Mark, Modern World History…_ Try as he might, his focus kept wandering back to his ex-girlfriend. The poor boy didn't even notice that Angel was in his class or that he was sitting next to him. Mr. Smythwick started the usual lecture. Mark poised his pen as if to take notes, but every time he looked down at his notebook, all he saw was Maureen's name written over and over.

A sigh escaped his lips. He couldn't wait for the next block. Fourth block meant three things. One, it was computer applications… the time when he could hide in the back of the lab and write new screenplays. Two, it was almost the end of the most horrible day of his life. Three… he would be seeing Collins again. Somehow, that brightened him up even more than the thought of escaping this hellhole called a school.

Angel was grateful that he knew someone in his next class, but Mark was definitely in no shape to talk. The boy had returned to the table looking dazed. It wasn't until after he had left to throw away his trash that Maureen had told them about their breakup. Angel knew he should be feeling bad for his new friends. However, all he could manage to feel was hope. Maureen was single?

It looked like Mark was not going to get over the diva easily. A half-hour into the period and he had filled three pages with her name. He frowned in sympathy. He remembered his last breakup. It had not been fun. The girl found out about his "nightly activities" and dropped his ass publicly the next day. _Funny how a little cross-dressing can bring out the worst in people…_ he thought ironically. A loud question brought his attention back to the class at hand. With one last glance at Mark's notebook, Angel started scribbling down the notes he had missed while daydreaming.

Roger stomped off to his next block class, fuming and sputtering aloud, kicking over a trashcan as he went. What a bitch! How could she do that to him? Mark, of all people? What was wrong with Mark? Roger wasn't sure he was the best person to rate boyfriends, but from all of the girl talk he'd been forced to listen to, from his sisters and Mimi and Maureen, he was pretty sure Mark was what every girl talked about. He may not be the most attractive guy in the school, but he was always good to Maureen. What the hell was she doing dumping him?

He trudged into third block, throwing his bag onto the floor beside the empty desk near the back of the room. _Calculus,_ he sighed. _The one good thing about my day… and it just got better._ Looking up, he saw the pretty-eyed dark skinned girl from Chorus and lunch, Joanne. A small smile flickered across his lips as she slid into the desk beside his. He waved loosely at her as he slouched down into his seat.

"Hi Roger," she smiled, dropping her bag on the floor beside her desk.

"Hey," he nodded.

"Calculus, eh?" she asked. _God, that must sound stupid._

"Yeah," he nodded again.

"Cool," she said nervously.

"Guess so."

Joanne smiled as his voice rung in her ear. He was so sexy. She tried to focus as the teacher began to give notes but she found herself distracted by his deep green eyes, soft blond hair and sexy smile. She sighed dreamily as the teacher droned on and she floated off into her dream world.

"I feel so bad," Maureen mumbled as she and Mimi wandered the halls during their study hall. "I mean, the look on his face when I said it. He looked so… crushed. Did I do the right thing?"

"Sure," Mimi replied, chewing noisily on her gum. "If you think so."

"Well, I mean, he was just so clingy and needy and he was driving me nuts! You know what I mean?"

"Sure," she nodded. "What do you think of Roger?"

"Roger? Roger Davis? What do I think of him?" she asked.

"Yeah," Mimi sighed.

"He's an asshole," she replied. "But he's one of my best friends. I don't think he's speaking to me right now though."

"He's cute," Mimi noted.

"Eh," Maureen shrugged. "Can you keep a secret?"

Mimi smiled excitedly. "You know I can."

"Know who's cute?"

"Who? Who?"

"Angel."

Joanne quickly packed up her notebook after the bell signaled the end of calculus. She made to leave, but someone caught her arm and pulled her back. A little tremor shivered in her stomach when she ended up looking into the intense green eyes of the boy she had been dreaming about all block. "H-hey, Roger…" she greeted. The breathy tone of her voice made her want to slap herself.

"Hey, Joanne… What's your next class?"

"Uh, computer apps. Why?" She sounded accusatory now. _Calm down, Joanne!_

Roger didn't seem to notice, however. He gave her an easy half-smile. "I'll walk you. Mark's in that class too, and I want to see how he's holding up."

The pretty African-American girl cursed the way her heartbeat sped up. "A-all right." She turned to walk down the hall, Roger at her side. A few steps later, he leaned over at relieved her of the heavy textbook in her arms. "Oh, you don't have to do that – "

"It's all right. So, you are coming to the gig on Friday, right?" She didn't notice the way he glanced at her, hope in his eyes.

"Yeah, I'll be there."

They had reached the computer lab by then. "Good." The pair shared a slightly awkward grin before Mark came shuffling up. Roger went over to his friend. Joanne stood by the door in a daze for a moment, then moved into the darker room. This was going better than a first day of school had ever gone.

The soft hum of multiple computers running was nearly putting Collins to sleep. The somewhat calm atmosphere of the lab wasn't helping. He found himself dozing off, chin in his hand when the second bell for fourth block rang. Collins jolted up, clearing his throat quietly as the teacher started talking. She met his eyes at one point, smiling and winking. He laughed to himself. She had already tried asking him out earlier. Didn't work out so well, considering he was gay. Luckily, she hadn't been offended or had treated him differently since she found out, so Collins knew he had at least one ally on the staff.

"Fourth block, computer applications…" Wait, wasn't Mark in this class? He looked around the room. A vaguely familiar black girl was sitting a few monitors away from where he had set up, but he couldn't find the familiar blond hair of his student guide. Once the students started their assignment (and by started their assignment, he meant started surfing the internet,) he got up from his chair, stretched and wandered the length of the lab. Collins was beginning to think that Mark had skipped when a little cough caught his attention.

Mark was seated in the very back of the computer lab. He stared blankly at the screen. Collins noted with a frown how red his eyes looked. The anarchist stole an empty chair and brought it next to Mark. "Hey, man, you okay?"

The boy wiped at his eyes beneath his glasses. "Yeah. Maureen broke up with me."

Collins sighed. "Tough break, man. You holding up?" Without thinking, he placed his hand on the back of Mark's neck comfortingly.

"Sort of. I know she's not the only girl out there, but… I think I loved her, Collins." The fact that Mark was spilling his heart to someone he had met that morning went over both of their heads. Collins merely increased the warm pressure on the boy's neck, liking the way Mark leaned into his touch. No more words were spoken, but by the time the bell rang, Collins and Mark had moved closer to each other so that their legs were touching.

The lab aid shifted away from the boy. Mark half-smiled at him, gathering his bag from where it rested on the floor. Collins reached up to scratch the back of his neck, saying, "Listen, Mark, if you ever need to talk… Here's my home number. Call anytime." Mark's face flushed as he took the little slip of paper, something that brought a smile to Collins's lips. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said softly, squeezing his shoulder. The boy nodded shyly. Collins watched him leave. _Don't do this to yourself, Tom…_ he told himself. A moment later he thought, _He's worth it._

Roger waited impatiently out by his car for the scrawny blond cameraman to come rushing out. Roger had been giving Mark rides since sophomore year, and knowing Mrs. Cohen the way he did, he'd be giving Mark rides until they graduated. He leaned against the rust covered Chevy and pushed his long hair out of his eyes, shaking his head as a mob of freshmen girls scuttled past, giggling and drooling over him. He stretched his arms up over his head and sighed. First day of school was over and so much had happened.

"Hi Marky," Roger greeted, tossing the keys at the blond.

"Hey," Mark forced a smile, catching the keys in his hand and unlocking the passenger side door.

"How's it going?" Roger asked, taking the keys back and stuffing them into the ignition.

"S'okay," Mark sighed, leaning his head against the window.

Roger groaned as he shifted and pulled out of his parking spot. "Look, I'm sorry about Maureen," he said. "But she's crazy. She doesn't know what she's missing, okay?"

Mark looked over at the guitarist through his thick-rimmed glasses and nodded. "Okay." True, he was upset about Maureen, but he hadn't stopped running the slip of paper from Collins through his fingers since he'd left the computer room. What the hell was going on?

A loud knock came on Roger's window as the car sat idly in the line waiting to leave the school, causing him to jump. "Speak of the devil," he groaned, rolling down his window. "What's up, Mo?"

"Hey, do you guys think you can give Joanne a ride home?" she asked. "I know you're not thrilled with me right now, but she needs a ride home. I've gotta get home and babysit. Please?"

"Uh," Roger mumbled, feeling his cheeks flush slightly.

"Sure," Mark nodded. "She lives over by my neighborhood anyway."

"Okay," Maureen smiled. "Thanks guys. See you tomorrow, Jo."

"Bye," she said nervously, climbing into the back of Roger's car.

Roger glanced into his rearview mirror, letting his eyes linger on her pretty features. A loud honk sounded from behind and Roger immediately hit the gas, jerking the car forward. "Asshole!" he shouted, reaching a hand out the window and flipping off the car behind him.

Angel popped up from where he had been ducking down in Maureen's passenger seat. "So I take it that they bought the story," he said somewhat sarcastically.

Maureen laughed. "Yeah… Sorry about all this secrecy shit. I just didn't want Mark to think - "

"No, I understand. Don't worry about it. Thanks for giving me a ride home." Maureen grinned over at him before returning her eyes to the road. Angel laid his head against the window, observing his surroundings. His family had moved into the only place they could afford, which happened to be in the 'bad' part of town. It wasn't as horrible as he had originally thought, but he still didn't want to be walking home alone at night in the place.

Angel gathered his courage. "Maureen, d'you want to grab some pizza with me before the gig on Friday?" Lame. Lame times a million. But if the little smile on her face was anything to judge by, she was considering it.

"I'd love to, Ang," she answered, pulling over to the curb.

Angel smiled happily. "Great." A moment later, Maureen's lips were landing on his cheek and he was blushing and saying a goodbye and climbing out of the car. Next thing he knew, he was standing on the curb, waving goodbye to Maureen as she drove away. First day and he had a date. He definitely liked it here.

Mark rolled over so he was lying on his back on Roger's bed. He was still running his fingers over the little slip of paper in his hand. By now, he had memorized the seven digits of Collins's phone number, but he kept fingering the paper every few moments. With a sigh, he let it flutter down to land on a neglected notebook with long forgotten math homework scrawled across its pages. Mark groaned and rubbed his eyes. Why was he feeling like this? Sure, he was bisexual and accepted it, but why now? He had just lost Maureen. Logically, he should be depressed and rejecting any attraction he had for another person, not pursuing it. Again, he sighed and reached down to pick up the number.

: It wasn't there. "Collins… the new computer lab dude?" Shit. Roger.

"Uh, yeah… he gave me his number in case I had questions - "

"Bull-fucking-shit. Aides don't give out numbers and if they did, they wouldn't put a little flourish by their name." Roger grinned mockingly at Mark. "Do you like him?" The filmmaker's jaw fell open. He hadn't told anyone about his sexuality, especially not Roger. "Ah, give it up. Everyone knows you're bi." His jaw closed in even more shock. They knew? Eh. Mark shrugged it off. "So, do you? It's okay man, you can tell me."

Mark flushed. "I guess so."

"Then call him! Bring him to the gig, make Maureen jealous. If you don't, you know I will." To make his point, Roger reached for the phone. Mark moved quicker than he ever had in his life, snatching both the number and the phone from Roger in a matter of seconds. Roger didn't know whether to be afraid or impressed.

Mark's hands trembled as he dialed the number. One ring. The receiver slammed down. The filmmaker took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He tried again. One ring. Two rings. "Hello?"

He slammed it down again. "For Christ's sake Mark - " Roger pounced on his friend, trying to wrestle the phone and number away from him. Muffled grunts came from both boys, along with a pleading, "Don't rip it!" from Mark. Moments later, Roger emerged the victor and quickly dialed the number. "Collins? Hey this is Roger Davis - what? Yeah, I'm the badass who was in the office this morning. Listen, Mark wants to talk to you. Hold on." Roger handed the receiver to a still-panting Mark, flashing him a shit-eating grin the process.

"Uh, hello? Collins?"

J fizzitalian: "Hey, Mark. What's up?" Just his voice made Mark melt.

"Well, Roger has a gig on Friday and I-was-wondering-if-you-would-go-with-me." What? Mark held back from smacking himself on the head. Seconds later, Roger did it for him.

"Calm down, man. I'd like that. Maybe we could grab something to eat before?"

Mark thought he might strain something from the grin on his face. Even though he wasn't sure he could eat around Collins without throwing up, he replied, "Sure. We can talk tomorrow. See you then."

"All right. Bye, handsome."

The receiver fell from suddenly limp fingers. Mark couldn't hear Roger's teasing sing-song or the way he laughed at Mark's shock. All he could hear was the way Collins had called him 'handsome' ringing in his head.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey Mimi, thanks for getting ready with me," Joanne smiled as she dug through her purse, searching for her favorite tube of lipstick.

"No problem," Mimi smiled as she dug around in her drawer for a skirt. "It's fun to have some girl time. What are you gonna wear tonight?"

"Um, probably my jeans and the new blouse I got a few weeks ago. You?"

"Well, I really like this skirt," Mimi said, holding up a pink plaid skirt that appeared to be a stretched out headband. "But I like this one, too." In the other hand was a similar skirt, but this one was black and sparkly. "What do you think, Jo?"

"Erm… the pink one?" Joanne said, not sure if there was much of a difference or if Mimi really cared.

"Cool," she smiled, slipping out of her jeans and wiggling into the skintight mini-skirt. She tossed on a black tank top, her cleavage pouring out the top and resumed her place in front of her vanity, applying pink lipstick to her pouting lips.

"So is Roger's band any good?" Joanne asked, hoping to get some info out of Mimi, as she ran a comb through her short hair.

"Yeah," Mimi nodded. "They're super good. Probably my favorite band ever."

Joanne nodded understandingly. "What's their name?"

"The Well Hungarians," Mimi said, snapping a barrette into her dark hair.

"Cool," Joanne sighed dreamily. _That's so clever…_ "Roger's really cute."

"I know," Mimi giggled. "He is. My Rogie…"

"Your Rogie?" Joanne asked curiously, sitting on the edge of Mimi's bed.

"Yeah," Mimi nodded, spinning around to face her friend. "He and I are… sort of a thing…" she smiled. "We've liked each other since freshman year but it's never been 'official'," she said, quoting official with her fingers.

"Oh," Joanne said, her heart sinking into her chest. "Cool."

"He's gorgeous," she said, fanning herself. "Well, are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, sure," Joanne said, her smile fading.

"Okay," Mimi said, grabbing Joanne's hand and her purse before dashing out the door.

"Come on Mark," Roger shouted as he thumped down the stairs. "You're gonna be late, which means I'm gonna be late which means there will no longer be a lead singer for my band."

"I'm coming!" Mark shouted back, emerging from his bedroom and following Roger, nearly tripping down the stairs.

"You boys behave!" Mrs. Cohen shouted from the kitchen. "Mark! Curfew is midnight! Roger, are you spending the night?"

"Most likely!" he shouted back, grabbing onto the scruff of Mark's jacket and hauling him towards the door. "Bye Mrs. Cohen!"

"Bye Mom!" Mark choked as Roger dashed towards the door. "Jeez, Rog," Mark said, rubbing at his neck when Roger let go. "What's the rush?"

"Don't you wanna get to your date on time?" he asked, jamming his keys into the ignition.

"It's not a date…" Mark mumbled, his face turning a lovely shade of red.

"If it's not a date, then why are you blushing? And wearing the one sweater you own without a stain on it?"

"I…" Mark stumbled, buckling himself in. "I just…"

"You're just going on a date," Roger laughed.

"Well, why are you in a hurry, huh? Mimi gonna be there or something?"

"I dunno," Roger shrugged. "And I don't care. She needs to get a life. And leave me the fuck alone."

Mark chuckled. "Mimi's nice. Behave yourself."

"I know she's nice, but I'm not interested."

"So it's someone else?" Mark asked.

"Shut up, Mark," Roger snapped as they pulled up towards the pizzeria. "Out. And _behave yourself,_" he said, mocking Mrs. Cohen. "See you at the gig."

Collins stood awkwardly in front of the pizzeria, leaning against the brick wall. He was trying to be inconspicuous about being there. It seemed like the teen 'hang-out' from what he had seen. Surely he would stick out. Of course, he had forgotten that only a few years ago he was hanging out in places like this. He looked up when he heard two vaguely familiar voices heading towards him. It was that Hispanic kid… Angel. And Maureen… Mark's ex. Anger flooded him for no apparent reason other than she had dumped Mark. Collins ducked his head as they passed, hiding both his recognizable face and gently clenched fists.

His gaze rose when he heard a car door slam and a light male voice call a goodbye. Mark was walking towards him, a beat up green car roaring away from the curb at his back. Collins couldn't help the grin that spread on his face when he saw the blond boy. He took the moments in which Mark was approaching him to look him over. Loose-fitting jeans, beat up shoes and a bright blue sweater that matched his eyes combined to make him appear more gorgeous than he already was. Whoa, Collins, you better stop it, man. He's a student, a small part of his mind reminded him. A much bigger part of his mind told the smaller part to go fuck itself.

"Hey, Mark," he greeted, reaching out to clasp his shoulder. Mark blushed slightly, his pale cheeks growing rosy.

"Hey, Collins, how've you been?" The boy sounded more uncomfortable than usual. Collins supposed that maybe he shouldn't have worn jeans so loose that they were practically falling off of his hips, or an open shirt over a wifebeater. But hey, if Mark was noticing, then his mission was accomplished.

"Can't complain. You hungry?" Collins gently took Mark's hand in his own, chuckling quietly at the way the boy's eyes widened at the contact. The blond nodded and followed Collins into the restaurant. Collins grinned. This would be a very interesting night.

Angel sat sort of awkwardly across from Maureen in the pizza place. They had ordered a pizza to split five minutes ago and hadn't said anything since. Angel was beginning to zone out when Maureen's voice jolted him to the present.

"Hey, did I tell you that I love how you're wearing eyeliner?" Angel grinned at her, secretly relieved. He had put the stuff on out of habit when getting ready and he didn't realize that he was wearing it until he saw himself in the rearview mirror.

"Thanks, Mo," he replied. He looked across at her, observing. She looked really pretty tonight, with her dark hair wild around her pale face and a black shirt clinging perfectly to her torso. Her jeans were just tight enough to catch someone's eye. "You look spectacular," he said smoothly, grinning. He was so absorbed in her that he didn't notice Collins and Mark enter and sit in the booth behind theirs.

Roger sighed as he whipped into the parking lot at CBGB's, nearly hitting three cars as he parked his. Tossing the door open, the blond stepped out, plucking the cigarette from his lips and stomping it out on the tar. He scuffed slowly across the parking lot, only pausing when he heard his name being called out. Figuring it was a bunch of freshman fan girls, Roger continued walking.

"Roger!"

Roger's ears perked up as he recognized the second voice.

"Joanne?"

"Hi!" she called as she and Mimi jogged over towards him.

"Hey," he smiled at her, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "You came."

"Of course we did!" Mimi exclaimed, stepping forward.

Roger nodded, stepping back a bit, before looking back up at Joanne. "I'm uh, really glad you're here."

"I knew you would be," Mimi grinned as she linked her arm through his. "Come on, babe, let's go inside."

Roger glanced down at her, an annoyed look plastered on his face. He glanced over at Joanne, catching the slight disappointment in her face before Mimi dragged him off towards the hall.

"Come on, Jo," Mimi called over her shoulder.

"I'm uh, gonna wait… for Maureen and Angel out here, okay?"

Mimi stopped and spun around. "Oh, come on inside. I promise you won't feel like the third wheel."

Joanne shook her head, forcing a smile. "S'okay. I'll wait. See you inside in a bit, yeah?"

"Okay, if you're sure," Mimi shrugged. "Come on, Rog."

Roger's eyes never left Joanne as Mimi dragged him towards the club, but Joanne didn't notice. She'd busied herself with the small hole in her jeans, not wanting to see Mimi with Roger, while she waited for the others to arrive.

Maureen was rather distracted at dinner. She hadn't looked away from Angel for more than two seconds all night. She absent-mindedly picked up a slice of pizza and aimed for her mouth while the two talked. A blob of sauce dripped down from the pizza and landed right in her lap.

"Shit!" she whispered, dropping the slice back onto her plate and grabbing a napkin. "Guess I should be paying more attention to other things. Damn it." She tossed the dirty napkin back up on the table and sighed, glancing down at the stain on her jeans. A familiar squeaky voice caught her ear and she turned around to see a blond cameraman walking with a certain computer aid over to an empty booth a few seats away. "Is that… Mark?"

Mark was just getting comfortable with being in Collins's extremely handsome and flirtatious presence when he heard an all-too-familiar voice say his name. He looked past Collins to see a certain dark-haired diva staring back at him. He froze.

"Mark? Mark, you okay, man?" The filmmaker jumped a bit when he felt Collins touch his hand. His pale cheeks flushed. Collins had a concerned frown on his face.

"Uh… yeah…" he said weakly, his eyes returning to Maureen, who looked as surprised as he did. Collins turned his head to see what Mark was staring at.

"Ah." The matter-of-fact sound caught Mark's attention. Collins was now looking down at the table, dejected. A moment later he was studying Mark's face. "You wanna get out of here?"

The understanding tone in Collins's voice managed to thaw Mark's frozen body. He wrenched his neck into nodding. The two got up from their booth and made to leave, but…

"Marky? What are you doing here?" Shit… Mark stopped in front of Angel and Maureen's booth, Collins behind him. A rather nervous chuckle escaped from his lips, making the tense silence even more so. He opened his mouth to try and say something, but nothing was coming to mind.

"Well - "

Mark squeaked a little when he felt two strong arms slide around his waist. The solid body at his back didn't help his nerves either, though it did send a tingle of happiness down his spine. Collins leaned forward to rest his chin on Mark's shoulder, whispering, "Let me handle this…" The blond didn't say anything before Collins started 'explaining.'

"We're here for the same reasons you are, Maureen… Now, if you'll excuse us, we've got a show to go to… You ready, Mark?"

He sighed softly when Collins pulled him a little closer. "Yeah… Bye, Maureen, Angel," he said in a somewhat forced voice. Collins led him out of the pizza place, their hands joined. Nothing was said during the two block walk to the club. Outside of the place, Mark tugged on Collins's hand so that he'd face him. "Thanks." He was staring at the ground so hard that he missed the big grin on Collins's lips.

He was very aware of said lips in the next moment when they were pressing against the back of his hand. "You're welcome."

Mimi perched herself on an amp, crossing her long, thin legs. She noticed the bassist of the Well Hungarians, Evan, checking her bare limbs out. A sultry smirk crossed her lips. Evan was always staring at her whenever she came to band rehearsal or one of their gigs. He was cute in a… bassist sort of way, but she'd never choose him over her Roger. Speaking of him, where was he? "Ted?" The tall, thin keyboardist turned, fixing his always unhurried gaze on her. "Do you know where Roger is?" she asked in whiny voice.

"I think he's in the green room with Dylan," he said quietly, moving back to his instrument. Mimi carefully rose from her perch, winking at Evan as she strutted backstage to find her man.

"-And I think we should change our name to something more witty. Well Hungarians is nice and all, but we need something funnier… Like, Giving You Herpes. So when we introduce ourselves, it's like, 'Hey, we're Giving You Herpes!' Or maybe the Disabled, so if people don't like us they say, 'Oh man, I hate the Disabled!' and people will be like, 'You're so horrible!' Or - Hey, Mimi." The eager drummer fell silent when Mimi entered, looking her up and down.

Mimi grinned cattily at Dylan. "Hey Dylan… mind if I talk to Roger… alone?" she asked, her voice dripping with innuendo. Roger glared at her from the couch.

"He might not, but I do."

The guitarist's cold voice startled Mimi. Nevertheless, she smoothed her arm up the doorjamb, stretching her curvy figure into a sexy pose. "Ah, baby, you sound tense… Shall I fix that?"

Roger stood, stalking towards her angrily. "No. Get out of here, Mimi."

She lowered her arm. Her brown eyes narrowed at him. "What?"

"I told you to get out of here. You're nothing but an easy lay, Mimi, and I'm far from interested. Now stop bothering me and acting like I'm your fucking property or something!"

The Latina propped her hands on her hips. She opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was an angry shriek. She whipped around, shoving Dylan aside as she stalked out of the club. That asshole! What was he thinking? Well, he certainly would never win her back now! Mimi walked down the streets aimlessly.

After what seemed like hours, she stopped in front of an unfamiliar building. She did, however, recognize the address. A smirk curved her plump lips. She pushed open the fancy glass door and struck a little pose for the doorman. "Mr. Coffin, please," she purred.


	5. Chapter 5

Joanne sat quietly, sipping a soda, head in hand, while Maureen and Angel chatted happily beside her. Fucking third wheel… once again. The must have been there for three hours or so. Gigs didn't last much longer than that, right?

"Jo? Joanne… Joanne!"

"Huh?" she asked, feeling a hand shaking her arm.

"You've been sitting there not saying anything all night long," Maureen informed her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, m'fine," she mumbled, eyes dropping to the table, avoiding the gaze of the lead singer.

"Come on," Maureen smiled, tugging on her hand gently. "Let's go dance or something."

"I dunno, Mo," Joanne grumbled, trying to sink lower into the booth.

"Come on, Jo," Angel grinned, grabbing her other hand.

Joanne grumbled and resisted the whole way out of the booth and over onto the dance floor. But eventually, Maureen and Angel won and had the brainy Harvard-bound girl swaying back and forth.

"Isn't this fun?" Maureen asked, latching a hand onto Angel's.

"Mhm," Joanne nodded as Maureen pushed her back and forth to the rhythm of the music.

"Don't get too excited. Wouldn't want you to die of a hernia or something," Maureen giggled.

"Don't plan on it," she replied as Maureen let go of her hand to toss it around Angel's shoulders. "I've got a headache. I'm gonna go sit. I'll be fine, I promise," she buzzed, taking advantage of her newly freed hand, and sped back towards the booth.

br>

Last song… Roger thought to himself. He glanced around the room, searching for a certain dark skinned brainiac. There she was, sitting alone at the booth, picking at the edge of the table, an empty soda can in front of her. Roger frowned at her lack of attention and enthusiasm for his band, but sighed and prepared himself for the last song.

As soon as the last chords were sung, Roger had tossed his guitar down and hopped off the stage. He climbed through bunches of screaming fangirls, crawled through mobs of drunk high schoolers and weaseled his way over to Joanne's booth.

"Hey," he puffed, quite out of breath.

Joanne jumped slightly as she turned to see the speaker. "Hi," she squeaked, jaw dropping slightly.

"Did you like it?" he asked, pushing his thumb over his shoulder, motioning towards the stage.

"Yeah," she smiled thinly, still mad about Mimi. "It was good."

Roger frowned slightly. "Oh," he murmured.

"So where's Mimi?" Joanne asked, sitting up straighter.

"I dunno," he shrugged. "Figured she'd be with you. If she's not here, then she's probably out screwing some old guy."

Joanne laughed at the comment, but quickly wiped the grin off of her

face. "You let her do that?"

"Let her do that?" he echoed, a bit confused. "I'm not her boyfriend, I don't care what she does."

Joanne's eyes grew wide. "Oh," she squeaked. "Jesus Christ, I've just made the biggest fool of myself… I'm such an idiot," she murmured under her breath. "I've gotta go."

"Wait," Roger pleaded, grabbing onto her shoulders. "Erm… whaddaya say we go grab something to eat… I hear Burger King's open all night."

Joanne paused. She melted under his gaze, feeling herself collecting in a puddle on the ground. "Okay," she nodded. "Mo, I'm gonna go grab some food… with Roger. I'll be over afterwards…"

"Okay," Maureen replied as she and Angel approached the table. "I should be home. If not, you can let yourself in."

"Bye Mo, Ang," Roger nodded as he grabbed onto Joanne's hand.

"Bye," Maureen giggled as she watched Joanne's face change from one of shock to one of complete happiness. "So Ang, what now? Wanna go grab some ice cream?"

"Okay," Angel nodded.

br>

Mark tried to look around for Maureen, but found himself unable to focus on anything besides Collins. The man commanded his attention… He looked up at him and smiled nervously. Collins returned the grin, rubbing his fingers on the back of Mark's hand. The filmmaker's eyes were inexplicably drawn to the sight. His dark fingers were such a contrast to the pale skin of his hand. Mark's free hand actually twitched, itching to film the moment.

A moment later he forgot what he had been wanting to do. Collins had gotten up, still holding his hand. A sly grin curved his lips, lips that Mark had watched too often that night. "Wanna dance?"

"S-sure…" Mark stuttered out. Mentally he kicked himself for being such a spaz. But Collins didn't seem to notice his social ineptness. The larger man led him out to the dance floor, bringing him into the crowd of dancing bodies. Mark gulped at the closeness of the people. He reached up and adjusted his glasses, cursing the way he felt himself shaking. Collins stopped at some point, tugging on Mark's hand to bring him close. Mark felt himself blushing at the sensation of Collins's body near his. His hand remained in Collins's, and soon he felt himself relaxing, letting his body sway to the music. People had often told him that he was spastic when he danced. He only hoped that no one got seriously injured… this time.

Collins had always thought of himself as a fair dancer. He managed to keep a steady rhythm with his hips and limbs at least. But Mark… Collins had to bite his lip not to laugh. The boy's arms flew all over the place, uncoordinated. People actually had to move out of the way to avoid being hit. Collins stepped closer to him. He caught his forearms gently. Mark's cheeks flushed when Collins smoothed his hands down the boy's arms, taking his hands. Without a word, he placed Mark's arms around his own neck. His hands relocated to Mark's hips, moving them in a gentle sway. Collins liked the feeling of Mark's slim body against his and how Mark's fingers dug slightly into the back of his neck.

He slid his hands around to the small of his date's back, brushing against a sliver of bare skin. Collins grinned a little when Mark's eyes slid shut. Daringly, he bent his head down, his breath mingling with Mark's. The music in the club drowned out any inner voices protesting. A warm feeling flooded his stomach when their lips finally connected. Mark let out a surprised squeak, making Collins pull away. "Sorry," he apologized, thinking he had misread the filmmaker.

Mark touched his lips lightly, the very thing Collins was longing to do.

What was it about this boy that made Collins act like a teenager again?

The anarchist-turned-computer aid didn't have time to ponder it as Mark pressed against him again, looking up at him longingly. Collins reached up to rub a thumb along Mark's cheekbone before leaning down for another kiss.

br>

Maureen cleared her throat as the engine in her car turned over. She squinted her eyes; gently tapping the gas, praying the car would start. And it did, with a cough and a sputter. She grinned as she shifted. "You can change the radio or the tape if you want," she offered.

Angel smiled back, flipping through her collection of tapes. "Pat Benetar," he said excitedly. "The Police… actually, this is fine," he said, noticing that Maureen was humming along.

"We're here anyway," she said, pulling into a parking spot. "Ooh, I'm crooked."

Angel opened the door, peering out at the ground. "Not too bad."

"Okay," Maureen smiled, turning the car off. Slamming the door, she shoved her keys into one pocket and reached around to her back, pulling out a few crumpled bills. Angel dug into his pocket as well but Maureen pulled his hand back. "I got it, babe," she said, smiling.

Once they'd ordered, chocolate chocolate chip for Angel and strawberry for Maureen, they walked hand in hand over to the curb and sat down on the sidewalk. Angel watched as she consumed the frozen treat, trying not to laugh at the mess she was making.

"What?" Maureen asked, pulling her ice cream away from her face as she noticed him watching her.

He shook his head. "Nothing. You're just… making a mess."

Maureen smiled, licking her lips. "I'm not messy, I'm creative."

"Well, whatever you want to call it, you missed some," he said, pointing to the corner of her mouth.

"I did?" she asked. "Where?"

"There," he said, scooting closer, his finger centimeters from her mouth. "Let me get it."

"Okay," Maureen said, waiting for him to brush his finger across her mouth. But Angel hadn't intended to use his hands as she soon found out when his lips brushed against hers instead. She nearly dropped her cone in surprise but she let her eyelids slide shut and she leaned into the kiss. After what seemed like an eternity and two seconds at once, he pulled back, looking up at her. She opened her eyes and smiled dreamily at him.

"It's… s'gone," he murmured, smiling slightly.

"Yeah… thanks," she replied, a dumb smile hanging on her face.

br>

Maureen still had the same dazed look on her face on the car ride home as she did back on the curb. She sat quietly, seeing stars and fireworks. He sat quietly, not sure if he'd done the right thing. A heavy silence hung in the air. An awkward silence. Angel shivered, still staring out the window. Maureen reached up, running her fingers over her lips as they stopped at a red light, still able to feel his lips against hers.

"Maureen,"

"Huh?"

"It's green," Angel said, pointing at the stoplight.

"Oh," she smiled. "Yeah."

Maureen turned left, and then pulled into his driveway. Shifting into park, she sat back quietly, wanting to lean over and kiss him right then. He sat quietly, too, not getting out of the car, not moving at all.

"So I," she started.

"Thanks for the ride," Angel said quickly, smiling over at her as he unbuckled.

"Sure," she smiled. "I um, I had fun tonight."

"Yeah, me, too. Soooo I'll see you at school on Monday?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

He reached for the door handle.

"Ang," she said, grabbing his shoulder.

He turned around to face her. "Yeah?"

Before another word was spoken, she'd leaned across the seat and pressed her lips against his, her hand on his cheek. He kissed her back, letting it last longer this time, letting his fingers sift through her dark hair. She pulled back, smiling, almost giggling.

"So," Angel mumbled, grinning back.

"So you'll call me?"

"Yeah," he said, reaching for the door handle again.

"Ang,"

"Yeah?"

"Night," she said, kissing his cheek before he hopped out of her car.

She pulled out of his driveway after watching him walk into his house and sighed happily. "Wait till Joanne hears about this."

br>

Roger cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly before shoving another French fry in his mouth. He and Joanne had managed to make some sort of conversation on the way to the fast-food place, but once they had gotten their meals, it died. Joanne was staring intently at her burger, refusing to meet his gaze. He could tell that she still felt awkward about what had happened with Mimi. "So, ah, where'd you get the idea that Mimi was my girlfriend?" he asked, his voice teasing slightly.

Joanne looked up, startled. A little blush spread in her mocha cheeks. "She told me you two were sort of a thing, and I assumed - "

"You assumed?" Roger grinned playfully at her above his chocolate shake. "Now, Joanne, you know what assuming does, right?" His grin grew wider at her confused expression (which was quite adorable, he thought.) "It makes an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me.'" She laughed. He was surprised at the musical sound. Inspiration struck. Frantically, he dug in his beat up backpack for his notebook and started scribbling in it. Notes and words streamed from his mind to his pen. He was so deep into his work that he didn't notice his companion until she spoke.

"Roger?" His head jerked up, a retort on his lips. The harsh words died when he saw the fallen look on her face. "I know I'm boring. I'll just go…" She started to get up. Roger quickly scrambled out of his seat to stand next to her.

"Joanne, no… You're not boring and I certainly don't want you to go. Sorry, I just… I got inspired and I had to get it down before I forgot it, you know? You, your laugh shook something loose in my mind and I'd be kicking myself in the ass if I had forgotten it…" He stopped his little babble, wondering at the look on her face. "You okay?"

The hopeful look in her eyes and the secret smile she gave him struck a chord within him. "I inspired you?"

He sank down to his knees beside her, half-smiling. "Yeah…" His voice was low and gravelly, the one he used for ballads and love songs. Cautiously, he raised a callused hand and touched her face. Her skin was soft and smooth. Almost as if he couldn't control himself, he leaned forward and lightly kissed her. Joanne, surprisingly, kissed him back. Music exploded in Roger's head, but for once, he didn't scramble to write it down in his notebook.


	6. Chapter 6

Authors: J-fizz and Ms. Friz

WARNING: Pairing will not be changing any time soon. We understand that the pairings are odd and that not everyone likes them. But umm... too bad. :) It's based on our own rent family and this is how they're staying.

Summary: Monday morning after the gig. Featuring Mark/Collins, Joanne/Roger... Mimi confrontation and some Maureen/Angel.

Word Count: 2141

Special Thanks: To the 2006 RENT tour for being amazing (Jed Resnick in particular) and to our rent family and our readers!

br>

Mimi raked her fingers through her dark curly hair as she stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom. She pulled the small clip from between her lips and combed it back through her hair, holding her wild mane back. Pulling a tube of lipstick from the pocket of her jeans, she rubbed it against her puckered lips.

"So how'd the gig go on Friday?" she asked the young girl standing beside her.

"Good," Joanne smiled dreamily, thinking about dinner afterwards. "It was good."

"Did he sing anything you knew?"

"Yeah," she replied with a slight giggle, not really listening to the Latina in front of her.

"Like what?"

"I don't know."

Mimi eyed Joanne suspiciously. "You feeling okay?"

"Mhm," Joanne said, pushing off the sink and following Mimi out of the bathroom. "Hey, see you later, okay? I've gotta… get to class."

"Yeah, okay," Mimi nodded as Joanne scurried down the hall, her backpack dangling from one shoulder. Mimi waited a minute before deciding to follow the giggling girl, wondering what she was up to.

br>

Mark paced nervously back and forth near the computer lab, not wanting to stick his head in and see if Collins was there for fear of seeming stalker-ish or maybe for fear that Friday night hadn't meant to Collins what it had meant to Mark or maybe it was for fear of… well, just fear in general. But he was sure he looked incredibly ridiculous just pacing around outside. Luckily no one had run past yet.

"Hi Mark!"

Scratch that. Mark spun around nervously to catch the caller but smiled, a bit relieved to find it was just Joanne. But she'd said his name a bit loudly. If Collins was in there, he'd probably heard her. "Hi Joanne. Bye Joanne."

The girl kept jogging lightly. She craned her neck to look back at him. "Sorry, gotta run."

"Right. Roger, I know."

Joanne's cheeks flushed slightly but she didn't stop grinning. "You know?"

"Erm… yeah."

"Bye Mark. Oh, Collins is in there," she smiled as she disappeared down the hallway.

Mark froze immediately. _Shit! Shit shit shit! People know! And he's in there! Shit!_ Just then, a pair of arms grabbed onto his shoulders and shook him lightly. "Shit!" He grabbed onto his chest as if to slow his heart down and spun around to see the small Latina behind him, giggling. "You just scared the shit out of me!"

"Sorry, Marky," she apologized. "What's got you all nervous?"

"Nothing," Mark sighed running a hand through his hair. "Nothing."

"Okay, well, I'll see you later," she said before skipping off down the hall.

"Uh huh," Mark replied before returning to his pacing.

br>

Angel hitched his backpack up higher on his shoulders. Why did he have to walk to school? Oh, that's right, because his neighborhood was too sketchy for the school buses to stop there. Hence the walking. A group of macho guys were sitting on a stoop he was about to pass. Shit. They were eyeing him. Angel looked straight ahead, holding onto his backpack with one hand. He hoped that this morning would be different.

"Ay, Dios Mio!"

"Buenos dias, maricon."

Nope.

"Chico, why don't you let me see that pretty face up close?" Angel turned to the group. Mistake number one.

"You really want some of this, honey?" Mistake number two. The largest (and most annoying) of the group rose and started towards him. Shit.

A car horn beeped. Angel whirled around to see Maureen in the drivers seat.

"Ah, there's my girlfriend. Adios, maricones!" Angel called, running to the car.

He burst into laughter as Maureen sped away. "Hey honey," he greeted.

"Hi, babe," she returned. "Rough morning?" Laughter colored her voice.

Angel picked up her free hand and gently kissed the back of it. "Better now."

The girl blushed and giggled. Angel held lightly onto her hand until she needed it for a turn. Much to his pleasure, it came back to rest in his when she was done, and so it continued until they got to school.

br>

Collins had gotten to school absurdly early. Even though he was just an aid, the computer teacher made him correct the majority of the assignments handed in and since his apartment was far too overpriced, he didn't have a computer of his own and had to do all of his work at school. The lab was beginning to feel like his home now.

Simple programs flew past his eyes. A, A, B, A, A… The assignment was far too easy, and yet no one seemed to do it outstandingly well. Except… huh. This one was perfect. Comprehension dawned on him when he saw the name. Mark Cohen. Of course Mark would do perfect work.

Collins allowed himself to think back three days to Friday, when he was holding Mark inhis arms and feeling his lips on his own. The anarchist smiled at the remembered sensation.

An opening door drew his attention away from his memories. The object of his thoughts poked his head through the door.

"Hey Collins."

The blush on his pale cheeks was adorable. Collins got up and went over to him.

"Morning, handsome."

He pushed the door closed before drawing Mark into a hug. The boy sighed happily, letting his fingers drum on Collins's shoulders.

"Did you have fun Friday night?" he rumbled into Mark's ear.

Mark's voice sounded a little breathless. "Yeah… especially this." He rose up on his tiptoes to kiss him, but Collins backed away.

"Mark, we can't." The fallen look on the boy's face made the anarchist want to kick himself. "I mean, not at school. I could get fired. Mark still looked like a sad puppy. Collins stepped forward, taking the boy's face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs under Mark's eyes. "I'm sorry, baby, but I can't help it."

Mark smiled up at him hopefully. "It's okay, Collins, really." A pale hand rose up to rest on a dark one. The look on his face was enough to break Collins's control.

"Fuck it."

The larger man seized Mark around the waist, pulling him into a heated kiss. Mark squeaked, then moaned a little as he snaked his arms around Collins's neck. The man smiled into their kiss. A few moments later, he released Mark. His slightly dazed and thoroughly kissed appearance made Collins grin. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all.

br>

Joanne slowed down as she approached the music room where Musetta's Waltz was gently trickling. She caught her breath, which was hard to do, especially with Roger right around the corner, and stepped towards the door. It was open and she cautiously poked her head around the doorframe. He was sitting back to, guitar in his lap, in the swivel chair in the front of the room. Mr. Murray wasn't in his office, she'd checked, so she cautiously crept towards the rocker.

"I'm writing one great song before I-woah!"

Joanne reached around from behind and slid her hands over his eyes. His calloused fingers covered her smooth ones as he struggled to figure out who was behind him.

"Maureen, if that's you, this is not funny."

"S'not Maureen."

Roger inhaled sharply. "Joanne."

She slowly removed her hands as he turned to face her. A smile flickered across his lip lips as his hands wound around her middle, pulling her close so she was leaning against his knees, in his lap. She let her hands rest on his shoulders as she fumbled for something to say. She hadn't thought this far ahead.

"Morning," Roger smiled.

"Morning," she echoed.

Roger leaned up to her lips, brushing his gently against hers. He was surprised when she kissed him back, a little more fiercely than he'd hoped, but he wasn't complaining.

"Mmm… _good morning_," Roger chuckled.

br>

Mimi scuttled down the hallways, staying far enough away from Joanne so she wouldn't suspect anything but close enough to not lose her. A tall muscular football player caught sight of Mimi and delayed her a bit, finally weaseling a phone number out of her. She pushed past him and continued down the hall. Crap. Lost her. The soft melody of guitar caught her ear and she turned towards the music room. Imagining the boy sitting behind the guitar gave Mimi butterflies and made her smile.

And then the music stopped. There was a murmur of voices, one sounding like Roger and the other she didn't quite recognize, but it sounded female. Mimi slunk towards the door, back pressed against the wall as she strained to hear the next part of the conversation.

"So what are you doing after school today?"

Roger.

"Nothing."

Girl.

"Can I take you out? We could grab dinner… and do math homework," he chuckled.

Roger.

"Sure, that'd be great."

Joanne?

Mimi crouched down and crawled on all fours to peek around the door just in time to see Joanne press her lips against Roger. Mimi's jaw dropped and she let out a tiny squeak. Shit. Joanne spun around, her eyes as big as saucers when she noticed Mimi crouching by the doorway.

"Mimi!"

"Joanne!"

"Mimi!" Roger shouted.

"Roger!"

"Roger?" Joanne raised an eyebrow.

"Joanne!" Mimi cried, standing up straight.

"Mimi!"

"What the fuck is going on?" she demanded, marching down the steps and into the room.

"Erm, uh, nothing," Joanne mumbled as she made to step away from Roger. But he grabbed onto her waist and pulled her back.

"Doesn't look like nothing! What do you think you're doing? Did you not hear me on Friday when I told you he was mine?"

Joanne chewed on her bottom lip nervously. "Well, yeah, I heard you," she answered meekly. "But Roger said… I thought…"

"You thought… you thought what?"

"Roger doesn't like you!" she shouted. Joanne immediately wished she could have eaten her words as she slapped both hands over her mouth. "Oh… my… God."

Mimi was fuming. She was so mad she couldn't speak. Her mouth hung open, her eyebrows knit in fury, and she stomped up and down a few times. "What?" she shrieked.

"I didn't mean… I'm… I…" Joanne mumbled from behind her fingers.

Roger stood up from his chair and stepped in front of Joanne. "I don't like you, Mimi," Roger repeated. "You're a nice girl… most of the time, but I'm just not interested in you the way you think I am. Now if you would be so kind as to remove yourself and leave us alone…" he pointed towards the door.

"This is bullshit!" Mimi screeched. "Bullshit! Joanne, you're supposed to be my friend! This is not what friends to do each other! You stole him from me!"

"Hey, little girl, the door is that way!" Roger shouted back, pushing her gently towards the stairs.

Mimi took one last look before growling, crossing her arms over her chest and marching loudly out of the room.

Roger spun back around, resting his arms on Joanne's shoulders and rubbing them gently. "Hey," he said quietly into her ear. "It's okay."

"Do you know how stupid I am?" she asked, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. "So stupid."

"You're not stupid," he told her. "Mimi needed a reality check."

"Yeah, well, I need friends."

"You've got friends. And she'll get over it. And it's the truth. I don't like Mimi. I like you."

Joanne blushed as she raised her head to look up into his green eyes. "Really?"

Roger chuckled. "Yes, really." He leaned in and kissed her gently. "Promise. So dinner and advanced math? Pick you up around six?"

"Yes," she smiled.

br>

Mimi stormed down the hallway, pushing a pack of freshmen out of her way as she went. She paused in an empty hallway and jumped up and down, screeching as she bounced. Once she caught her breath, she flattened out her skirt and continued walking, her steps still heavy and her mood very pissed off.

"Maureen!"

Mimi raced towards the dark haired diva, glad to find someone else to rant to. But she wasn't alone. Mimi's spirits fell a bit. It was Angel, the new kid Maureen had thought was cute. And they were… holding hands. Paired up just like every one else is this fucking school.

"Hey Meems," Maureen smiled. "You remember Angel?"

"Yes," she replied.

"What's up?" Maureen asked when Mimi didn't say anything else.

"Forget it," Mimi growled before turning on her heel and storming towards the vice principal's office.

"What's up with her?" Angel asked.

"I dunno," Maureen shrugged. "Roger probably pissed her off again."

"Oh," Angel nodded as the bell rang. "Can I walk you to class?"

"Anytime."


	7. Chapter 7

A few weeks later, everything had returned to what constituted for normal in the teens' world. Sure, Mimi wasn't speaking to any of them (especially Roger and Joanne), Maureen and Angel were fast becoming infamous for their random kisses in the hallway and Mark would disappear for fifteen minutes every lunch period and show up late with rosy cheeks and a dazed smile, but after the drama of the gig, it had calmed down. The five friends would always be seen together for lunch, so it was a surprise to three of them when Joanne didn't show up one day.

"Hey Rog," Mark said as he slid into a plastic seat, actually on time for lunch. He looked around the room, saw Maureen and Angel heading towards them but didn't see the resident brainiac. "Where's Jo today?"

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to her, where's my Jojo?" Maureen asked with a giggle. Angel smoothed her dark hair behind her shoulders, earning himself a warm smile from his girlfriend.

Roger scowled slightly at Maureen. "She doesn't like being called that, Mo. She's at an interview for a scholarship… But it worked out perfectly. Now I can talk to you guys. It's her birthday next week… can you guys help me plan a surprise party? And before you ask, Mark, Collins can come too." The geeky filmmaker blushed when Roger gave him a pointed look. "Just… decorations, music, who else to invite, all that shit that I'm not good at. We can have it at my place, my parents will be gone. So will you?"

Maureen nodded and squealed happily. "Ooh, this sounds so fun! Ang, do you want to go shopping with me after school?" Angel nodded, taking hold of her hand on top of the table. She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it. The display made Mark sigh a bit. They all knew what that meant. So… they weren't surprised when he excused himself a few minutes later to get to the bathroom before class started. Lunch didn't end for another twenty minutes.

Maureen and Angel seemed involved with each other, so Roger pulled out his notebook and pencil to work some more on Joanne's birthday present. It wasn't right yet…

Mark decided that he didn't like white days. White days he had math (which he hated,) gym (which he hated even more,) chemistry (in which he had to deal with an idiotic teacher who should have retired years ago,) and English (which wasn't that bad, but his final class on blue days was much more preferable.) Besides, he didn't get to see Collins at all during those days except for at lunch. However, Collins had been inviting him to his apartment after school, so the lack of contact during white days was bearable.

This particular day, Mark was sitting in Collins's small apartment on a patched leather couch while his older (dare he think it) boyfriend was in the kitchen-esque area, getting them iced teas, but splashing a hint of Stoli in his. He had just told Collins about Joanne's party, and he had yet to say anything about it. Mark was watching him carefully. Finally he couldn't take the silence. "So, what do you think?"

Collins brought the glasses out to where Mark was sitting, set them on a low table and slid down next to the blond. "I don't know, baby," he said lowly, gathering the smaller man in his arms. Mark sighed, content for the moment, but he was still tense waiting for the rest of Collins's answer. "There'll be other kids there from the school, yes?" Mark nodded, slowly stroking Collins's fingers. "How will we hide us? It's easy in school, but if I see you dressed up for the party and there's music playing… you're just far too tempting, Mark, and that might be disastrous." Mark laughed a little when Collins nuzzled into his hair before planting a kiss on the top of his head.

"Please?" Mark twisted in Collins's lap to pout up at him. He quickly learned how much the pout affected Collins. The filmmaker rarely used it, but now seemed like an appropriate occasion. Collins groaned deep in his chest. "Pleeease?" The anarchist sighed and nodded. Mark smiled and leaned up for a light kiss. Said kiss soon turned much deeper, surprising Mark. Before he knew it, Collins was half on top of him, reducing him to a Mark-shaped puddle. A warm brown hand teased his sweater up, inching over pale stomach. Shivers sailed down the blonde's spine. He moved his hands from Collins's back to the front of his jeans, trying to undo them.

He whined a little when Collins gently moved his hands away from his pants. The older man sat up, bringing Mark with him and kissing his hands softly. "Not yet, my heart. It'll be sweeter if you wait." Mark sighed. Collins had been like this every time he tried to go further than hot kisses and hands wandering on chests. But in some way, the gesture touched him. He smiled at Collins to show he wasn't angry before giving him another soft kiss. The two cuddled on the couch again, sipping iced tea and chatting quietly.

Maureen leaned up against her car, waiting (impatiently) for the arrival of Angel after school. She hadn't been able to concentrate in any of her after lunch classes, partially due to Angel, but because of party plans. She'd spent all of History making a list of things they should get as well as who to invite and what everyone needed to bring. She'd tried to come up with a good idea for a present, but that hadn't worked as well.

She grinned when she saw him walking towards her. God, he was cute. How she managed to hook him, she'd never know. Maureen promptly planted her lips on his, kissing him hello. He smiled, twirling a strand of her hair around one of his fingers.

"You ready?" Maureen asked.

"Mhm," Angel hummed, walking around the car to the passenger's side.

"I made lists," Maureen said, pulling them from her bag before starting the car. "Here." She thrust them into his lap as she sped out of the parking lot. "What do you think?"

"That's a lot of stuff," Angel said, skimming the pretty pink scribbles on the paper.

"I know," she nodded. "Just ideas. But we need balloons, streamers…"

"Music."

"And cake!"

Angel giggled at her exclamation. "Yes, cake."

"Ooh, we could make a cake!" she said, bouncing in her seat. "Can you bake?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Good, cause I almost failed Life Skills in middle school. My cookies come out like rocks."

Angel laughed again.

"I'm not kidding," she said straight faced as she drove through a parking space at the mall. "My dog won't eat them."

"Come on," Angel said, tugging on her hand. "We've got a lot of shopping to do."

Joanne picked up her pink plastic telephone receiver and pressed her red fingernails against the glowing buttons, dialing the number of a geeky blond rather pale boy she sat next to in computer class.

"Hello?"

"Hi, may I speak to Mark, please?"

"One second," the girl-ish voice chirped. "Mom! Where's Mark? There's a GIRL on the phone!"

Joanne giggled, thinking about Collins.

"Umm, he's not here right now. Can I take a message?"

"Could you tell him that Joanne called? Just a quick question about homework."

"Sure. Bye."

Joanne hung up the phone, sighing. Maybe Collins would know. Of course Collins would know. He gave the assignment. Her sister had been friends with Collins back in high school and he'd spent a number of evenings at her house, drinking and talking. He'd befriended Joanne as well and she was glad he was teaching computer class.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hello?"

Finally. "Collins?"

"Hey Jo," he said, panting slightly. "What's up?"

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Mark, that tickles, cut it out… no. You're not. What's up?"

Joanne sighed. That's where Mark was. She should have known. "Um, nothing. Just had a question about the homework. But it can wait."

She could hear him talking to Mark, not even listening to what she wanted.

"Sorry, Jo, what?"

"Nothing," she said. "Talk to you later."

She set the phone down in the receiver a little harsher than necessary, but it made her feel better. She rolled over, staring at the huge pile of AP History homework she had to do. Maybe she'd call Maureen, procrastinate a little.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is Maureen there?"

"No, I'm sorry, she's not. Who is this?"

"Joanne."

"Joanne, I think she's over at Angel's."

"Thanks," she sighed, hanging the phone up… again. What the hell? Did no one want to talk to her?

Roger.

Roger would talk to her.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

"S'me. Roger. Leave a message. Maybe I'll call you back."

Joanne grumbled slightly. "Hey Rog, it's me. Just wanted to chat. Call me back."

What the fuck! Did everyone have lives but her? She flopped backwards on her bed, sighing angrily. Joanne didn't like feeling ignored, not one bit.

Roger Davis didn't hear his phone ring. He was busy constructing the perfect birthday gift up on the roof. He'd climbed out his bedroom window, guitar in hand (not an easy feat to accomplish, mind you) and had nestled into a small bend in the roof, strumming clumsily as he scribbled on his notepad.

Joanne glared at the stack of homework sitting on her computer chair. It was mocking her. Teasing her. She had no life. All of her friends were out having fun without her and here she was, stuck with this fucking AP book and five million assignments. She turned over, back to the book and yawned slightly. She was tired. Today had been a long day. Maybe she'd take a quick nap… do homework… later.

"Maureen! Where are you?"

"Over here," she shouted back, stuffing her arms with brightly colored streamers. "Come here."

Angel hurried over, basket in hand, locating the drama queen in an aisle of the party store in the mall. She dumped the streamers into the basket and sighed happily. "Good colors? I got orange. And yellow. And green."

"Sure," Angel shrugged, slipping his hand through hers as they walked.

"Balloons!" she squealed, grabbing a package of assorted colors. "We should get helium balloons! Hearing Mark on helium would make my life."

Angel nodded, laughing in agreement. "We'd have to get them the night of the party so they don't deflate."

"Good," Maureen said. "More time together."

Angel squeezed her hand gently as she chucked the balloons into the basket.

"Oh, look!" she said, picking up another package. "It's those… blowy thingers. You know? You blow it and the tail pops out."

"A noise maker?"

"Sure," she said, adding that to their collection of party things.

Angel shook his head slightly, smiling, as she dragged him off down another aisle.

Collins reached down to remove Mark's hands from where they were currently undoing his pants. "Come on, baby…" he said in a heavy voice, still panting a bit. "I told you we should wait…"

The anarchist wanted to cry with sexual frustration when the smaller man rolled off of him. He sat up, adjusting his jeans carefully. His young blond boyfriend noticed, crawled to the side of the couch on his knees and reached between Collins's legs. The feeling of Mark's hands touching him through denim undid him for a moment, making him tilt his head back, muffling a moan by biting his lip. However, when he felt skin on skin, he reacted. He pushed Mark away harder than he meant to.

The filmmaker fell into the coffee table. Collins quickly re-buttoned his pants and scrambled down next to his boyfriend. "Oh, Mark… Oh my god, baby, I am so sorry… Are you hurt?"

Mark pushed away the gentle hand searching for injuries and glared at the anarchist, tears in his eyes. "Is it me, Collins?" Collins started to protest, but Mark cut him off. "No. I don't want to hear it. Call me when you figure it out and when I'll be allowed to love you like I want to."

Collins spluttered as Mark grabbed his scarf and left.

Collins let himself fall forward, landing face-first on the floor with a rather painful thump. Shit. He knew this day would eventually come. It wasn't that he didn't want Mark. He did, with every fiber of his being.

Collins had overestimated his own control. He thought it might be easier to have a relationship with someone younger, but it was just as hard. Harder, even. He had fallen for Mark faster than he ever imagined he could fall for anyone. It had been amazing for the past month, but now came the hard part.

Sex. He longed to make love to Mark. He ached for him, to see his lithe body moving perfectly beneath him, to feel his warmth, to taste his sweat -

A high-pitched beeping interrupted his thoughts. Collins sat up, shuddering out a sigh. "AZT break," he muttered to himself in a forlorn voice. He sniffed back threatening tears as he trudged into the bathroom. Painfully, Collins choked down the pills, plagued with guilt, sorrow and disease.


	8. Chapter 8

"Mo, whatcha doin?"

"Umm… I don't actually know," she sighed.

"Need some help?"

The boy tried not to laugh at his girlfriend who'd managed to get flour on her nose and forehead and was currently trying to dig eggshell out of her cracked egg.

"Yes," she pouted, dropping her arms to her sides and sighing.

"Come here," he said, tugging her towards him. "You're covered in flour."

"I know," she mumbled as he gently brushed his fingers across her cheek.

"Use the eggshell to get the pieces out with," he said, picking up half of her shell. "Like this."

"Oh, sure, it works for you," she fussed, leaning over his shoulder to watch. "Ang, let's face it. I suck at baking."

"No you don't," he smiled, throwing the shell away and dumping the egg into the bigger bowl. Angel picked up the eggbeater and placed it in the diva's hand. "Now mix."

Maureen raised an eyebrow, giving him a look before she flipped the switch and mixed the batter.

"What color frosting do you wanna put on?" he asked, reaching into the cupboard for food coloring.

"How about orange?"

"Does Joanne like orange?"

"I dunno, but I do," she giggled.

"Yes, I know, but this is not your cake, honey," Angel said, pulling out a few of the bottles.

"How about blue? Or purple?"

"Let's do blue," Angel said. "The purple looks kind of gross."

"Okay," Maureen nodded, turning off the machine. "I'm done. Let's get this in the oven."

"Here," he said, handing her a greased pan. "You hold, I'll pour."

"Why do you get to pour?" she asked, holding the pan steady.

"Cause you'd make a mess," he teased, poking her side before pouring the batter.

"Oh, thanks," she said sarcastically. "Hey, wanna watch a movie while this bakes?"

"Sure," he said, setting the bowl in the sink and opening the oven for her. "What do you wanna watch?"

"Something good," Maureen said.

"Very specific."

"I know," she grinned, kissing his cheek. "Come on."

With a sigh, Joanne picked up the phone. She dialed Roger's number for what seemed like the thousandth time in the last couple hours. So far no one had answered, but the brainy girl kept trying him. She tapped her fingers impatiently on her desk. The phone rang once, twice. By the third ring, Joanne was ready to hang up again… but someone picked up. "Hello?" Roger's rough voice sounded like heaven to her ears.

"Hey, Roger." Even over the phone she felt that fluttering in her stomach that always came when she talked to him.

A moment passed in which Joanne heard a scraping noise, a dull thud and a quiet twang of guitar strings. "Hey, baby, how are you?"

"I'm fine… what's going on? You sound out of breath…" Joanne tried not to let her suspicion show in her voice. Either she did a good job of it or Roger was too distracted by whatever he was doing to tell.

"Ah… I'm okay. Nothing's going on, baby, why would you think that?"

She tried and failed to mask her scoff. "Let's see. You've barely spoken to me in a week, you don't return my phone calls, all of our friends stop talking whenever I come around, and when you actually have spoken to me, you're distracted and sullen, like there's something else you'd rather be doing." The brainiac cursed the way that her voice shook as she talked. "Roger… if, if there's someone else - "

"No." The firm, desperate tone of his voice surprised Joanne. "Babe, I promise, there is no one else. You're everything, Jo." Her heart skipped a beat. He'd never spoken like this to her, and the passion in his voice told her he wasn't lying. "The band's been on my back to write more material, and Murray's rehearsing our choir day and night. I'm stressed out, love, and I'm sorry that I've been neglecting you. I'll make it up to you. Dinner, tomorrow night at Julio's."

She smiled, cradling the phone against her ear. She was melting, that was for damn sure. "All right."

Mark looked at himself in the mirror. What was it about him that drew Collins in yet managed to drive him away? Thinking about his boyfriend… or whatever he happened to be to the aide at this point, just served to depress Mark further. He turned from his mirror and gazed out of his window. He wanted Collins. He wanted to be held by Collins, to feel his scratchy whiskers on his neck, the sensation of his lips on his cheek. Something about being away from him undid Mark. He wasn't himself anymore. He needed Collins like a sick person needed medication.

The filmmaker slouched off of his chair, leaving unfinished homework on his desk. He flopped into bed thinking about Collins. A few restless minutes of tossing and turning later, he was still thinking about Collins. A half hour later, he still was. Mark resigned himself to another sleepless night.

Angel tightened his arms around his girl as the movie came to its conclusion. "So, did you like it?" he asked, pushing her thick hair aside so he could kiss her neck.

She giggled. "Yeah, but I like this even more…" Maureen turned from her position between his legs to rest on his chest, planting more kisses on his lips and cheeks. Angel grinned as he lay back. All he could focus on was Maureen, her lips, her smell…

Until he noticed the skirt lying just outside of his closet. Shit. He thought he had managed to hide everything before she came up! "Compi, let me up, just a second…" Maureen laughed again, rolling off of him to lean on the wall next to his bed. He scrambled off of his bed and kicked the skirt into his closet. Or… would've if the damn thing hadn't gotten caught on his foot. Now the bright pink and white skirt was in plain view, and with Angel's lack of sisters in the house, he had no one to blame it on.

Maureen was looking at him strangely. "Angel?"

Angel sighed, picked up the skirt and sat down next to her. "Compi, there's something I need to tell you."

My author's note:

Hey all you people in world. I'm Jill (so-bohemian-like-you), the co-author. I'd just like to let everyone know that any late chapters are totally my fault. I'm moving into my dorm this week and this entire summer has been insane. So… I'm so sorry!

All right, groveling is over. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, especially cordyangel (love your penname, Angel so belongs with Cordy, she's much better than Buffy) and ickle-s-10. You guys all rock and I hope you like this chappie as much as the rest.


	9. Chapter 9

"Mark, hand me the tape, will ya?"

"Why doesn't he want me?"

Roger rolled his eyes as he struggled to hold the streamer up against the wall while a bag of balloons hung from his mouth. The stool he'd hopped up onto was teetering underneath him and the rocker knew if he didn't tape the streamer soon, he'd find himself in an incredibly uncomfortable position.

"I mean, what's so wrong with me? It's my age, isn't it? He thinks I'm too young."

"Mark…"

"But we didn't have this problem at the beginning. Maybe it's not that."

"Maaark…"

"What if he doesn't come to the party?"

"Mark!"

"What?"

Mark spun around just in time to see the stool collapse under the rocker, who jumped onto the couch, knocking his knee against the coffee table. He stifled a giggle, clasping a hand over his mouth.

"Don't laugh," he growled. "Give me the friggen tape. And I swear to God, if you talk about how Collins doesn't want you one more time, I'll tape you to the ceiling. Collins wants you. You want Collins. You had a fight. It'll blow over. Tape!"

Mark sighed, tossing the roll of duct tape towards the rocker as he slunk down onto the couch. "I don't know," he mumbled. "I don't know."

"What do you think of this, Ang?"

Maureen held up a black tank top splattered in white polka dots, pressing it against her torso.

"Oh, that's cute, babe," Angel said, pecking Maureen on the cheek. "What do you think of this?" He held up a white skirt embroidered with pink flowers and shook his hips.

"Very pretty," she giggled, grabbing onto his hips and kissing his lips. "You know, this just makes you all the more sexier."

"What does?"

"This," she said, tugging on his skirt.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she grinned. "It kind of turns me on."

Angel giggled, holding her closer, sliding his fingers through her dark curls and cradling her head. He leaned in, pressing his lips against hers. Maureen curled in closer, if that was possible, her arms wrapped around his waist as she kissed him.

"Hey," she murmured between kisses. "You're smudging… your make up."

"I can fix it."

"Okay," she smiled.

"So what'd you get Joanne for her birthday?" Mark asked, flopping back onto the couch.

They'd managed to clean the entire basement, move everything out of the way, hang sheets and decorations in two hours and had a few minutes to spare. Sure, Roger had done most of the work while Mark complained, but thinking about his girlfriend, Roger decided it was worth it.

"I'm not telling," he smirked, sprawling out on the floor. "It's a secret."

"Oh, come on, Rog. I always told you what I got Maureen."

"But I never asked."

"Come on," he whined.

"Hey, someone's here," Roger pointed out, hearing the door upstairs open and shut again followed by the sounds of sneakers scuffing across the floor and the rumble of voices.

"Roger? Mark?"

"Downstairs!" he shouted, rolling into a sitting position.

A pair of jean-covered legs stomped down the stairs, belonging to a dark haired diva. She struggled to balance the cake in her arms as she went and smiled over at the boys.

"Hey guys," she grinned.

"Hey Mo," Roger said, taking the cake from her arms and setting it on the folding table he'd pinched his fingers in while trying to set it up.

"Hi Mark," she waved.

He smiled back, getting up from the couch to hug her. "Hey." He looked around her, expecting to see her boyfriend. "Where's Angel?"

"Right here," a voice came from the top of the stairs.

Mark's jaw nearly hit the floor as Angel appeared at Maureen's side. "Wha… whoa… hey."

"Hi Marky," Angel waved, sliding his hand into Maureen's. "Hey Roger."

"Hey," Roger called over his shoulder as he continued setting up his table.

"Where do you want presents?" Maureen called, crossing the room.

"On the table," Roger motioned to an empty space. "Thanks for making the cake."

"No problem," Maureen smiled.

"Joanne should be here soon," Roger said, turning to face the two. His eyebrows rose slightly but he smiled. "And Collins is coming, too."

Collins looked at himself in the mirror. "Okay Tom… you can do this man, it's just a party… with a bunch of high schoolers…" He sighed. "High schoolers who are my students… one of whom happens to be my boyfriend and oh Lord I can't do this." Collins leaned over, bracing himself on the sink. He had managed to avoid Mark for the past week… or maybe Mark had been avoiding him. He had no idea what he was going to say to him. Every waking moment (and most of his sleeping ones as well) he had been thinking about Mark. About the way he smiled, and how he smelled, and how when the sun hit his eyes just right Collins felt as though he could see straight through them into his soul. He had also been imagining the reactions Mark might have when he heard about Collins's sickness. Would he leave him in disgust and confusion or would he take him in his arms and say that everything would be all right, that he would love him despite his illness? And if that was the case, was Collins strong enough to do what he should do?

He knew in his heart that it was unfair of him to keep Mark in this relationship. Mark was young, handsome… healthy. He didn't need to spend his youth looking after a sickened lover. Collins couldn't condemn him to watching him waste away… and yet he couldn't bring himself to think about how bad his life would be without Mark.

He looked into the mirror again. Tears were starting to swim in his eyes, something that was a regular occurrence in the past week. Angrily, he wiped at his eyes and stormed out of the bathroom, grabbing a wrapped package before leaving his apartment. "God help me."

Joanne walked down the dusky street, arms wrapped around herself protectively. Her heels clicked with every step. 'What a fucking birthday…' she thought bitterly. None of her friends had called her to wish her a happy birthday, Roger had been out every time she had called his house and to top it all off, her parents stuck a brochure for an all-girls boarding school in her present, their hint that they thought her school and friends weren't good enough.

She wiped away an angry tear quickly. After all, she was walking up Roger's front path. She didn't want him to see her crying. His smile when he answered the door cheered her up… somewhat. "Happy birthday, baby," he murmured, kissing her softly.

"Thanks, honey," she answered, breathing in his comforting scent.

"What- what are you doing?"

Roger laughed, covering her eyes with his hands. "Just trust me."

Slowly, he walked her down a flight of stairs, still covering her eyes.

"Roger, what the hell - "

"Shh!" he hissed, brushing his lips against her neck. She shivered slightly.

Sounds floated into her ears. Shuffling, breathing, quiet giggles hushed by a "Quiet, Mo!" "What-"

The hands disappeared. Lights blared on. Joanne blinked furiously at the sea of smiling faces around her, recognizing her friends. "Surprise! Happy birthday, Joanne!"

Joanne gasped, her jaw dropping. "You guys did all this for me?"

Maureen giggled again from where she stood in Angel's arms. "Yep. We

all did -"

"But it was all Roger's idea," Angel cut off. Joanne barely noticed his attire as she turned to her boyfriend, who was standing behind her with a sheepish smile.

"Really?" He nodded, blushing. "Thank you, honey…" Joanne leaned forward and kissed his cheek. She took a mental deep breath before whispering, "I love you." Without waiting for a reaction, she started over to Maureen, hoping she hadn't fucked over her relationship.

"So whatdaya think?" Maureen asked, taking a sip of her soda. "Pretty good, huh?"

"It's wonderful," Joanne grinned. Nervously, she looked back over at Roger, who'd stricken up a conversation with Mark and Angel. Catching his eyes, she blushed and turned back to Maureen.

"Glad you like it," the diva grinned, waving over at Angel.

"Mo," Joanne whispered sharply, tugging on the girl's arm. "I just… I just told Roger that I love him."

Maureen's eyes widened, jaw dropping slightly before she let out an excited squeal, shaking Joanne and almost dropping her cup. Joanne raised a finger to her lips before squeezing Maureen's arm lightly. "Maureen, shhh…" she whispered, eyes widening. She nodded over towards the boys, gritting her teeth. "Shut up."

"Sorry," Maureen whispered. "What did he say back?"

"Nothing!" she exclaimed, voice still hushed.

"Nothing? What do you mean nothing?"

"I think I scared him…" she said, lowering her head and twiddling her fingers.

"Scared him?" Maureen asked, looking over at the stairs as she heard the door swing open. "Hey, Rog, who else is coming?"

"Uh… Collins," Roger said, walking over towards the girls. "Why?"

"I think he's here," she replied, pointing up at the entrance.

The clicking of heels on wood followed by the scuffing of sneakers sounded and Maureen cocked her head, a puzzled look forming on her face. "Doesn't sound like Collins."

"Hello," a voice shouted down the stairs.

Roger tensed immediately, closing his eyes and sighing. "Mimi."

"Mo!" the Latina squealed, lunging at her friend. "Hey!"

"Hi Meems," Maureen choked as the girl hugged her. She looked around Mimi to see a tall scrawny fairly uninterested looking guy. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, this is Evan," she said, stepping back to push him forward. "He's one of Roger's band mates."

"Ah," Maureen nodded, smiling thinly at the boy.

Mimi elbowed the boy in the ribs, forcing out a tight uncomfortable 'hello'. Joanne nodded and smiled, wondering why on earth Mimi had showed up at her party. She didn't think Mimi was thrilled with her, especially since she'd stopped talking to her after the incident in the chorus room.

"Hi Joanne," Mimi grinned, wrapping her thin arms around the birthday girl.

"Hi Mimi," Joanne coughed, surprised by the warm welcome.

"Mimi."

"Roger," she said, glaring slightly.

"What're you doing?"

"What do you mean, what am I doing?"

Roger grabbed onto her elbow and tugged her off to the side.

"I'll be right back," she whispered, smiling.

"Whatever," Evan grunted, eyes locked on her ass as she wiggled off with Roger.

Joanne's heart sunk in her chest, eyes dropping to the floor. Maureen looked around nervously, slightly uncomfortable. "Mark, Ang," she called, waving to the boys.

"What?" Mark asked, stuffing chips into his mouth.

"Help," she said through her teeth, smiling. "Now."

Mark brushed his hands on his jeans and walked over, distracting the birthday girl with talk of math homework and how much he missed Collins. Maureen gave a relieved sigh as Angel wrapped his arms around her middle, holding her close. And then the boy spoke.

"What's up with you?" he asked, scoffing.

Angel opened his mouth to attempt and reply but Maureen beat him to it. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Mimi," Roger said firmly.

"Hey Rog," she smiled, twirling her hair around her finger.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's a birthday party, isn't it? I came to wish my friend a happy birthday."

"Bull shit," Roger said, resting his hands on his hips. "You haven't said anything to either of us since Murray's room. Why are you suddenly showing up? With that thing?" he asked, motioning to tall, pale and ugly who was talking with Mo and Angel.

"Look at him," Evan said, pointing at Angel. "He's a little fag."

Maureen's fingers tightened around Angel's as her temper flared. "Shut up."

"You're a guy who dresses like a girl who dates girls. Does that make you a dyke, too?"

"Mo," Angel warned as the diva tried to wiggle free of his grasp.

"Fuck you," she spat at the guitarist.

"He's my date," she said, smiling over at him and blowing a kiss. Suddenly, one of her many rings fell to the floor, clinking on the cement. "Oops," she said, bending down to look for it, her rump high in the air, mini skirt revealing way more than Roger wanted to see.

"Jesus, Mimi," he muttered under his breath.

"What?" she asked, sitting back on her limbs. "Like whatcha see?"

"No," he said, grabbing her hand and tugging her to her feet. "What do you want?"

Her eyes widened, lips turning into a pout. "Roger, that hurts," she whined. "I just want Joanne to have a good birthday."

"Then why'd you bring Evan? And why are you hitting on me?"

"Fairy."

Maureen pulled Angel's hands from her waist and lunged at the boy, tackling him to the ground. She dug her nails into his arms as he tried to shove her off. Pinning his shoulders down, she brought her knee up to meet his groin, causing the boy to gasp for breath.

Mimi glanced back over her shoulder where Evan had been standing and raised an eyebrow when she didn't see him standing there. "Where'd he go?"

"Maureen!" Roger shouted, pushing Mimi out of the way and running over to where the diva was rolling on the ground with his band mate.

Roger looked over at Angel and then back to the two on the ground, making the connection. A loud grunt came from Evan and Roger looked down in time to see Maureen slap him in the face.

"Get off!" he shouted, shoving her roughly. He brought a hand up to slap at her. "Oww! She bit me!"

"All right," Roger shouted, bending down and pulling Maureen off of the boy. "Thank you, that's enough."

"Fucking asshole," she said, continuing to spew insults as Roger dragged her to her feet. She brushed herself off, pushing hair out of her face. "Get the fuck out."

"Jesus Christ," Evan said, panting as he struggled to stand, wincing slightly. "Keep your woman on a goddamn leash."

Maureen made to jump at him again, but Roger caught her, throwing her over his shoulder. "Go to hell!" she shouted, legs kicking in the air as she tried to grab at him.

"Mimi!" Roger shouted. "Take your boyfriend and get out."

Mimi grabbed onto Evan's shirt and tugged him roughly towards the stairs. She spewed off a number of Spanish swears as she stomped up the stairs, dragging her boyfriend with her. She pushed past the tall dark computer lab aide without so much as a hello as they left.

"What's up with her?" Collins muttered, pausing half way down the stairs, taking in the scene before him. Roger had Maureen draped over his shoulder, Maureen was wiggling to get down, Angel's cheeks were flushed (and he was in drag?) and he stood next to the pair, Joanne stood speechless, a look of horror on her face, off to the side beside Mark… Mark. Collins felt his stomach tighten but he smiled, the look on the blond's face too cute to not smile.

"Hey Collins," Angel greeted, trying to take the attention off of the battle that had taken place.

"Roger, drop me," Maureen demanded. The rocker set her down on her feet and she straightened herself out, turning towards Angel. She blushed slightly, pushing hair back behind her ears. "I'm sorry."

"S'okay," Angel shrugged.

Maureen moved forward, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend. "No, it's not." She kissed him lightly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Angel nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "So did you really bite him?"

Maureen giggled, kissing him again. "Just for you."

Collins smiled briefly at Angel before looking to Mark again. As he had predicted, Mark was looking amazing in his dressier clothes. Not that jeans and a sweater was anything different from what he normally wore, but they just seemed to fit him better. Or maybe it was just Collins - Shut up, brain. Collins set down Joanne's present on a table and started over to Mark. Okay, so… Mark, I'm so sorry, I just, I have something - what the fuck was I thinking? I can't do- Collins stopped dead in his tracks. Mark was no longer alone. A good-looking boy had sidled up next to him, his body language screaming flirtation. The boy lightly shoved the filmmaker's shoulder, his hand lingering far too long for an innocent gesture. And by the look on Mark's face, he wasn't objecting.

Collins felt his stomach drop. Taking a deep breath, he turned away from the scene before he could work himself up. Into sobs or into a rage, he didn't know which.

"Collins? You okay?" Joanne frowned slightly at him, confused. Collins managed a grin for her.

"Nah, I'm fine. Don't you worry, birthday girl." He swept her up in a hug like he had done a few times when she was younger. "Happy birthday, Jo," he whispered in her ear.

Her smile was only seen for a few moments before a dark-haired blue swept between them. "Come on, Joanne, it's time for presents!"

"Mo, let the girl breathe!" Angel wrapped his arms around Maureen's waist and pulled her back to him.

Collins shrugged slightly at the sight of Angel in drag. It suited him, and apparently Maureen wasn't objecting, due to the massive kiss she was planting on his lips. Collins shook his head and laughed, sinking into an armchair. His eyes almost automatically sought out Mark, something he was sorry for. Mark and the boy were crammed onto a couch, Mark practically on his lap. Collins gulped and flexed his knuckles. He couldn't blame Mark, of course… but he still wanted to kill the boy for even thinking about touching his Mark.

Fifteen minutes later, Joanne was surrounded by presents. Angel had gotten her a really cute skirt and Maureen, a shirt to go with it. ("I wanted to get you porn since you are 18, but Angel wouldn't let me…") Mark had put together a short film for her, Collins had given her a photo album with pictures from her sister's high school days to her own. All of her other friends had gotten her little trinkets or a CD or two. The only person she hadn't gotten a present from was Roger.

All eyes turned to him, which made him shift uncomfortably. "Ah. My turn. Hold on. Close your eyes, baby," he instructed softly. Joanne obliged, shutting her eyes. The little noises from the partiers made her want to open them… and she was allowed to a moment later. Immediately she grinned - Roger was sitting in front of her with his guitar in his lap. "Uh… okay. This is why I've been avoiding you, so… I hope you like it." He grinned sheepishly at her before starting to play.

Wait for the sun to set your time

Wait till your tide rolls out to sea

Take a deep breath, whisper my name

I'll look up just in time to see

Then the stars can follow me

10,000 miles to take me home

I don't belong out here alone at sea

10,000 miles ain't that far

When it's over and done

There's nothing but you and me

Take all your blessings and your prayers

Lay down your blanket on the beach

Just watch the waves crash on the shore

And feel the water at your feet

And know that somewhere I am home

I feel you from the ocean deep

10,000 miles to take me home

I don't belong out here alone at sea

10,000 miles ain't that far

When it's over and done

There's nothing but you and me

If from the farthest sun, I'll carry on

Just for the moment I can feel

The beauty of the beating of your heart

Every time it beats for me

10,000 miles to take me home

I don't belong out here alone at sea

10,000 miles ain't that far

When it's over and done

There's nothing but you and me

10,000 miles to take me home

I don't belong out here alone at sea

10,000 miles ain't that far

It's over and done

There's nothing but you and me

Joanne watched him for a moment, tears in her eyes, speechless as the last chord faded away. Roger slowly took off his guitar and sank down on his knees in front of her. "I- I love you, baby. I love you." He leaned in and kissed her. Joanne sank into him, her heart swelling with happiness.

"Thank you… that's the best birthday present I've ever gotten," she whispered, wiping her brimming eyes. Roger pulled away and half-smiled, wiping a thumb under her eye.

"You're welcome."

"All right, enough of this mushy crap. Time to party!" Maureen jumped up and swept all the presents and wrapping paper aside. Someone started a dance CD and turned down the lights, everyone coming to life around them and dancing.

But Roger and Joanne remained on the floor by the couch, too wrapped up in each other to notice anyone else.


	10. Chapter 10

"Come dance with me."

Roger looked over at his girlfriend as if she had six heads. "What?"

"Dance," she repeated, tugging his hand. "With me. Ya know? Move to music?"

"I know what it means," he chuckled. "But I don't really dance."

"Why not?"

Roger looked over himself and then back at her. "Look at me. I just don't move like that," he said, imitating the rest of the dancing teens.

"Maureen and Angel are dancing," she said, pointing to the couple a few feet away.

The pair was pressed up against each other (Maureen, of course, not keeping her hands to herself), rocking back and forth to the music.

"Well, that's because they can dance," he said. "I can't."

"Fine," she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Roger stuffed his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight uneasily, catching her pout out of the corner of his eye. _Come on, Davis, it's her birthday. _Forcing himself to move, Roger grabbed onto one of her hands, prying her arms apart and tugging her into the crowd of people. A smile danced across her lips as his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close. Roger started slow, moving back and forth. Once he got comfortable, he daringly moved his feet… and crunched down on something soft.

"Ouch," she yelped.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, smiling bashfully. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she smiled. _Just keep holding me._

"See, I told you I'm not good at this."

_You're wonderful._ "You're fine. Just… don't let go, okay?"

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Hey, Rog,"

Roger felt a body bump into his back and he craned his neck to see the owner.

"We should have a sleepover," Maureen smiled excitedly.

"Girls and guys?" Joanne asked curiously.

"Uh, yeah? Is that okay with your parents?" Maureen asked.

"They're not home. They won't care." Roger turned back to Joanne. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded, moving closer. "It's okay."

Mark moved to the darker area of the basement that had been dubbed the dance part. Jack trailed behind him. The attentions of the other boy had surprised Mark immensely. He hadn't been planning on having another guy flirt with him tonight, but it sure caught Collins' attention, so Mark played along. Like now. Jack pulled Mark close to him like Collins had done at the gig. Of course, Jack was far from being Collins… Instead of the big arms and comforting strength that Mark had come to grow used to, Jack was a mere inch taller and thin but muscular. The differences made Mark feel slightly on edge. However, he wouldn't let anyone see that. So he relaxed in Jack's arms, moving his body against his. Jack took that and ran with it, pulling Mark tight up against him. Mark squirmed a little. He wasn't really comfortable with the close proximity.

"Jack-"

Mark's protest was cut off by Jack's mouth landing on his. Mark squeaked in double surprise when Jack's hands grabbed at his ass. He started trying to escape from Jack's grasp. Jack held on tight, trying to force his mouth open. Mark's heart started beating frantically as he tried to get away. A moment later he was caught in a completely different pair of arms, ones that made him feel safe and loved.

"Hey buddy, get your hands off my boyfriend," the owner of the arms growled. Jack raised his eyebrow at him dangerously before disappearing in the crowd, still leering at Mark. Collins turned Mark around to face him. "You okay, baby?" he asked quietly, running a thumb over the skin under his eye. Mark looked away, attempting to appear like he wasn't loving being in his man's arms.

"I-I guess so…"Mark gulped a lemon when Collins took his chin to force him to look him in the eye.

"Babe, we need to talk… but can I do this first?" Collins slowly leaned in, giving Mark time to escape. He didn't. After all, who wanted to escape from heaven?

Joanne snuggled back against her boyfriend's chest, pulling the quilt up under her chin. He wrapped his arms tighter around the brainiac, leaning back into the couch. Looking up at him, she kissed his chin, smiling.

"So did you have fun?" Maureen asked, interrupting the cuddling.

Joanne didn't bother looking at Maureen, but kept her gaze turned upward towards Roger. "Yeah," she said softly. After a moment, she finally glanced over at the other couple. Maureen was sitting between Angel's legs. Angel had changed into stretchy gray pajama pants, but traces of eyeliner still lingered around his eyes. "So, Ang, where did the drag come from?" Joanne asked, shifting a little bit in Roger's arms.

Angel grinned at Joanne, moving his hand onto Maureen's stomach. "I don't know, just something I've always wanted to try... Maureen pushed me into wearing it in public though." He tickled his girlfriend's stomach. "Lucky I've got a girlfriend with weird kinks, huh?" he teased.

Maureen twisted in his grasp, giggling at the tickles. Grabbing into his hands, she held them in her own, tightening his hold on her, but stopping the torture.

"Yeah, lucky you," she grinned. Maureen tipped her head backwards against his shoulder, looking up at him, and kissed his lips quickly before turning her attention back to Joanne. "Jo, we should get some outfits together for Ang sometime," she smiled playfully.

Joanne grinned, sitting up a little. "Yeah we should!" she agreed. She moved forward a little, scooting out of Roger's arms. He groaned in protest.

"Baby..." he whined, grabbing her waist to get her to stay.

Joanne ignored him and started talking to Maureen and Angel. "So, Angel, what's your favorite color?" she asked with a wink.

Maureen clapped excitedly. She turned slightly in Angel's arms so she could talk to the both of them at once.

"Anything bright," Angel replied.

"Bright," Maureen echoed. "We can do bright."

Roger rolled his eyes, moving forward a bit, trying to get Joanne to settle back into his grasp. Clothes. Clothes are boring, he thought. All Roger wanted was to cuddle.

When the girls and Angel continued to chat, Roger eyed Mark and Collins, who'd cuddled up in the other armchair on the other end of the couch. Mark was sitting contently in his boyfriend's lap. Not talking about shopping. He sighed and tried again to persuade Joanne to relax back in his arms.

Meanwhile, in the other armchair, Collins sat extremely happily with his boy back in his arms. Mark had recovered from the sexual harassment from earlier and was now snuggling into Collins's arms. Collins just smiled and let him lean on his chest. The conversation loomed over his head though. Maybe he could get it over with now.

"Roger?" Mark and Roger both turned to look at Collins. "Could we uh... use your room for a while?" Roger raised an eyebrow but nodded anyway, turning his attention back to the chattering girls and Angel. Mark's face could've fried eggs as he followed Collins up the stairs. Collins could feel Mark's anticipation and gulped. Boy was he in for a rude awakening.

Collins sat Mark down on Roger's bed. He turned around to close the door, holding onto the knob for an extra moment to sigh. When he turned back, Mark had laid down on his back, his glasses were off, and he was looking up at Collins expectantly. "I've missed you..." he murmured softly.

Collins gulped. "Baby, sit up..." Mark did, his eyebrows drawing together confusedly. "I-I need to talk to you."

Mark frowned as Collins sank down next to him, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. "Okay..." he said slowly.

"Mark, I... I have HIV," Collins said in a rush. He took a deep breath and continued.

"I got tested two years ago and was positive. I don't know who I got it from, I lived a pretty wild life before I came here, and now all I know is that I've never met anyone like you and I'm completely horrible for you, what with being sick and older and dying and all, but Mark, as bad as it is, I never want to be without you because I'm nothing without you." He paused. "I love you." His heart started beating wildly. Collins gulped a lemon as he waited for Mark's response. "Well?"

Roger dragged his hands over his face, sighing loudly... again. No one was paying attention to the rocker, though, and his aggravated sighs fell on deaf ears. He tried to listen again... something about mini skirts and pink tights... Roger never really understood tights in the first place. They covered legs and looked quite uncomfortable, neither of which sounded like much fun to him.

"Jo," he whispered, trying to subtly steal her attention. "Jo."

She swatted him away, leaning closer to Maureen, babbling away.

He groaned, tugging on his hair in frustration. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead on her shoulder. Her warm skin against his forehead gave him an idea. He pressed his lips to the back of her neck, kissing the flesh. He moved further up, feeling goosebumps under his lips.

"Roger, cut it out," she giggled.

"Poor Roger," Maureen teased. "Fashion too dull for you?"

Roger moved aside some of Joanne's tight curls to glare at Maureen. "Yes in fact, it is," he growled against Joanne's neck. His lips brushed the soft skin again. Joanne giggled, shivering a bit. Roger wriggled closer to her back, pulling her against his chest. She finally gave in.

Maureen pouted a little. "Rogy... Jo and I were talking fashion..." she whined. Angel laughed and smoothed her hair back, gently tugging her head back until he could plant a kiss on her lips.

"What were you complaining about, Mo?" he teased.

Maureen's eyes fluttered open slowly, her lips curving in a smile. "Complaining? Me?" she said innocently before kissing Angel again.

"Hey," she murmured between kisses. "Let's play a game."

"A game?" he asked, punctuating the question with a kiss. "What kind?"

"Mmm, I don't know," she shrugged. "How bout... spin the bottle?"

"Spin the bottle?" Roger asked, finally coming up for air. "What's the point in that? We're already kissing."

"Well, have you got any better ideas?" she asked, shooting him a look.

He rolled his eyes. "I'll go get a bottle."

Mark sat on Roger's bed in a state of somewhat shock. Collins had HIV? Strong, sweet, warm, loving, healthy Collins had HIV? He felt stinging at the back of his eyes. "S-so... you're dying?" he asked, voice shaking a little. Collins opened his mouth to reply, but Mark kept going. "No, of course not... well, yes, you are, but the medicines, they're better now, right?" He kept staring straight ahead, Roger's stuff blurred by his lack of glasses. "HIV... why didn't you tell me earlier? Wait, no, I know why, but... well... oh fuck it." Mark turned and leaned on Collins, kissing him full on the lips. The aide's surprise from the kiss allowed Mark to push him onto his back. Strong arms wrapped around Mark, holding him tight on the large chest. Mark pulled away after a few minutes, blinking wet eyes. "I love you too..." he whispered, tracing Collins's jaw. The older man smiled slowly. He snaked a hand around Mark's neck, rubbing his fingers softly against his neck and hair. In what seemed like an eternity, he eased Mark's head down, meeting him in a lover's kiss.

Angel splayed his hands on Maureen's stomach, trying to hold her still as she bounced in excitement. Really, spin the bottle with four people who happened to actually be two couples wasn't that exciting, but if it made his girl happy... He pushed her mass of hair aside to peck his lips against her neck. She giggled, turning her head. "You're cheating, you can't kiss me unless you spin me," she informed him.

"Call me a cheater." Angel gave her a short kiss on the mouth, earning more giggles after he pulled away. Joanne was grinning at them from her newly reacquired position between Roger's legs. The rocker had set an old glass bottle on the carpet between them. He did not look happy about this.

"Okay, Maureen, since it was your idea, you can go first."

"Yay!" She reached forward eagerly, moving to Angel's side as she spun.

The glass bottle looped around and ended on Angel. She smirked, leaning forward to kiss him hotly. Maureen only stopped when Roger let out a "Get a fuckin' room!"

"Your turn, baby." Angel spun, landing on Joanne. The two shared a peck. Maureen protested to the short kiss. With a glance at Roger (who shrugged and shook his head), Angel leaned in and kissed Jo again, slightly longer. Joanne was blushing when he pulled away, and continued to blush as she spun.

It only got brighter when the bottle landed on Maureen. The diva grinned, leaning across the bottle to cup Joanne's chin. Before the brainiac could protest she was locked in a kiss with Maureen. Angel and Roger watched avidly... perhaps a little too avidly... until Joanne retreated. Maureen winked at her, making Joanne smile nervously.

Maureen spun again, sharing a short kiss with Roger ("I can't believe this hasn't happened before..." he commented, earning him a whack on the head.) Roger spun, and Angel could see him silently praying for Joanne. The mouth of the bottle slid past the brainiac and landed on... Angel.

The cross dresser and the guitarist looked at each other, ignoring the delighted squeals of Maureen. "Ah... whatever." Roger, surprisingly, leaned forward and planted his lips on a very surprised Angel. He didn't even have time to react before it was over. The drummer blinked a couple of times, confused, licked his lips and winced. "Eww, Roger, do you ever brush your teeth?" he asked, wrinkling his nose. Maureen and Joanne burst out laughing.


	11. Not Really A Chapter

Hello Fantastic People!

This is not actually an update… just some news for you.

My partner-in-crime has been away at school all year so it was a little hard for us to continue writing. But she comes home today! And we have made plans to start a new fic! With the same pairings.

Sneak preview: it involves prom!

So there will be some coming up soon. Thanks for reading and being patient with us. More to come soon.

Em


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